Dakota Striplin didn’t enter The Voice like an ordinary 16-year-old chasing fame. There was a quiet weight to his presence, a composed self-assurance that drew the room in even before a single note escaped his lips. Something about him felt familiar, though no one could immediately pinpoint why — the gentle sincerity in his eyes, the way he carried himself, the sense of an old soul lingering beneath his youth. Then he approached the microphone, guitar in hand, and the realization hit everyone at once.
