Nestled at the foot of the Great Basin’s silent volcanoes, we are a small family of makers who still believe a knife should feel like it was waiting for you all along. We gather obsidian where the earth cracked open and cooled into glass, harvest antler and bone only when the animal’s life has been fully honored, and shape every piece by hand in the rhythm of firelight and quiet mornings. Nothing leaves our studio that we wouldn’t carry ourselves through the sage or hang above our own hearth. This is more than craft—it’s stewardship, gratitude, and a promise to keep the old stories alive