GRIPPING WITH A CRATE FULL OF SKINS

The air was thick with a whiff of cured flesh. Beads of moisture dotted his temple as he gingerly lifted the packed crate. Inside, a jumble of trophies glistened in the pale light. Each one a memory of his recent hunt. He knew these pelts were more than just products. They were a testament to his prowess. Every one a story waiting to be told. The