Her worried brow, her distressed face, made him feel a bit sour. He extended his hand to gently smooth the wrinkles on her brow and said, "Don't think too much about it. I consider myself lucky. I've always survived great dangers."
She nodded. She began to unfold the leg guard in her hands, wrapping it around his calf, then pulled the wide strap at the seam, winding it several times like a bandage to tie it tightly.
Speaking of which, this handmade item, something made by someone close, feels completely different from the mass-produced items sold in large department stores. No matter how professional a big factory is, it can't compare to something that's made just for him. Just the unique intention to create something for him makes it feel different.
