In the early afternoon, in a broad, dry wadi, you find an overhanging rock outcrop providing a welcome pool of shade. You pause your journey for a few pleasing minutes to stretch your legs, gulp greedily from your canteens, and take advantage of the precious shade.
You sit down among your companions, your back against the rock, mopping the streaming sweat from your face. It is pleasant here—pleasant enough to mean that you do not relish having to get up again and head back to the bone-jarring Kübelwagen and the sun's unremitting glare. You take another swig from your canteen (heaven) and close your eyes for a few seconds, resisting the urge to simply fall asleep for good.
A low, rumbling growl sees you fully alert once again. You open your eyes to a terrifying, breathtaking sight. A large female Arabian leopard, her pelt the color of pale honey, stands sideways on, looking at your little group in the shade from just paces away. The leopard's yellow, razor-sharp teeth are bared, and she growls like a demon as her jaundiced eyes take you in. The others have noticed too now. Abdul jolts in alarm, but Sam is entranced.
"She's beautiful," Sam mutters.
Mehedi slowly rises to his haunches. "Stay calm," he says, voice level and soothing. "Do not present as a threat. No sudden movements. Get to your feet and walk slowly to the truck."