Blue stares ahead, hackles raised. I follow his sight line. Yellow eyes reflect in the darkness. My breath stops. The scent of blood on my hands suddenly reeks as the sleek gold and black body of a leopard emerges from the shadows. Its eyes flick from me to Blue and then to the tent.

My heart takes off like a gazelle. “Good kitty kitty,” I whisper, my voice shaking.

The leopard’s ears perk toward it. Blue’s nose nudges my hip, and I step to the side. We can’t go far, though, as we need to stay in the shadow of the tent. The giant cat continues forward as we move out of its path. Blue steps slightly in front of me, one front paw just ahead of my feet. He’s tense, hackles fully raised, ears perked, tail rigid. But quiet. Blue’s not threatening the leopard, just letting it know he’s not easy prey. Primal fear shimmers through me in waves. As it stalks closer, the cat’s movements elegant and deadly, its scent a strong musk, my fear alchemizes into awe. The leopard passes us, its snake-like tail flicking. We stay still until it slinks through the opening we left in the tent wall.

Blue taps my hip again, breaking the leopard’s spell. I take off at a sprint, racing to the trees. A blood-curdling scream pierces the night. Then a roar. Shots explode.