I stepped back, my eyes tracing every detail of Ezio's attire. The waistcoat fit snugly against his growing frame, accentuating his youthful stature. I adjusted it, ensuring it sat perfectly, symbolizing his place within our lineage. As my fingers brushed against the intricate buttons, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. The ceremonial sash, adorned with vibrant colours, rested gracefully on his shoulder. Its presence spoke of the responsibility that would one day rest upon his young shoulders. I straightened it with care, making sure it hung just right, a visual representation of the weight he would bear as he stepped into his role as the future leader of our pack. With reverence, I placed the traditional Serbian cap, the šajkača, upon his head. Its iconic shape framed his face, adding an air of dignity and determination to his countenance. It was a symbol of our heritage, a tangible connection to our ancestors and the legacy they had passed down to us.