A Crisp Tip of the Brim

My stem straightened with deliberate firmness. Good evening. A small breath escaped my snout—*huff*—and I felt the slight tilt of my headwear. Protocol required immediate attention. Leaning forward against the dark blue surface, I gave my head a brisk nod toward the white wall. The gentle shift nudged my brim just so, settling it into an impeccably upright position. My footing remains solid, posture restored, eyes fixed ahead.