GRIPPING WITH A CRATE FULL OF SKINS

The air was thick with a whiff of cured flesh. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead as he carefully lifted the packed crate. Inside, a jumble of trophies glistened in the dim light. Each one a remnant of his recent journey. He knew these trophies were more than just commodities. They were a representation to his skill. Individual one a story