A sambar quenches its thirst at a pond in Ranthambore and looks upon a world of shimmering gold, gilded by a setting sun. The light of the day retreats into the west and the cool of night steals in silently. Will this be the sambar’s last sunset? Will it escape the maw, tooth and claw? Will the night be cast in crimson?

The beautiful precariousness of life, the lingering specter of death...it is the law written upon the land, the whispers in the wind, the rune of scar and stripe.

Cherish life and those moments of sublime wonder...lest the sun that sets before you is the last you will see.