The hut stank of death, a byproduct of his craft. But it served to keep away anyone who stumbled upon it. Rarely, an especially curious wanderer would open the door, but none had yet set foot inside; the hanging body parts of various beasts sent them running back down the mountain. That suited the old man fine. His appearance would be considered terrifying to the average villager and he had grown happy to exist alone and focus on his studies. He occasionally lamented he would have no one to pass his skills on to. But then he found the boy.