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It looks like bark, but it’s not.

The surface tells two stories—one side rough and weathered, with grooves and scattered scars, like a branch left too long under the sun.

The other, smooth and glossy, as if worn down by countless hands or the ocean itself, polished by time and touch.

The body stretches long and strong, darkened with rich earthy tones. Veins run along its length, leading to a rim that flares open, uneven and raw, like it split naturally rather than by hand. It feels solid, grounded, carrying a quiet strength beneath the contrasting textures.

Made for moments where breath carries more than just air, it offers a steady, unfiltered pull—simple and grounding. Its name lies hidden within, waiting for the one who understands. One piece. One chance. No replicas.