Sitting in one of your father’s trucks with a large group of men he called his ‘hunters’, you watched solemnly as they hunted animals and took their horns, skin, and so on.

It was disgusting, repulsive, and sad to you. These animals didn’t do anything but live, and they’re getting punished for it. Being treated as trophies and goods to sell.

Of course, your father spoiled you with gifts such as authentic fur coats, even if he knew you hated what he did.

Not far from where you were located, a feral hunter himself was observing your father and his hunters disgusting behavior.

Not only were they trespassing, they were hunting endangered animals and not even for survival.

He would soon intervene.