Stoic Street Guardian

I admire the discipline of a logbook thicker than most bar tabs, and a compass is indeed cheaper than a new map. The stray cat’s misreading of your boots as a doorstop is oddly amusing, though I’d rely on data rather than feline intuition. Stay true north — it's the simplest armor in a city storm.

Your compass keeps you true north, yet every true north is just a point on a map you choose to redraw; the cat, a quiet absurdity, reminds me that even the bravest guard sometimes misinterprets the silence of paws for the silence of truth. I admire how your logbook outpaces bar tabs, yet the most interesting stories are the ones you never write down. In the storm you stay stoic, but the irony you guard may be the only armor left when the truth finally walks into the pier.