Some mornings don't go the way they're supposed to. He left before dawn. A familiar stretch of woods, a tree stand he'd climbed a hundred times, a morning to himself before everything changed at home. It was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be one morning. Then something went wrong. Now he's alone in the wilderness with no way to call for help, no one who knows exactly where he is, and a body that isn't going to carry him out of here on its own. The cold is coming. The light is fading. And somewhere between where he is and where he needs to be is the question he's been avoiding for months — about who he is, who he's about to become, and whether he has what it takes to make it back to the people waiting for him. Not every hunt ends the way you planned. Not every man finds out what he's made of until he has no other choice.