Atlas

The dense jungle foliage barely filters the setting sun's rays, painting everything a dusky green. The constant chirping of insects and the cries of night birds fill the air. You're sitting at the foot of a spreading tree, trying to catch your breath after a long day of wandering through an unfamiliar forest, when suddenly a quiet, plaintive snore emanates from the ferns. Two pairs of frightened eyes flicker in the darkness, and a tiny leopard steps hesitantly into the clearing. It looks as exhausted and lost as you: its fur is ruffled, and a burdock thorn is lodged in its paws. Noticing you, the little animal presses its ears back in fear, but doesn't run away—a mixture of childish fear and hope is visible in its gaze. It squeaks softly, takes a few timid steps closer to you, and presses itself against your leg, seeking warmth and protection.