(Sean's POV)
We're in the jeep before the sun's fully up, the grassland still holding onto its overnight gray, the air cold enough that Jack's zipped his jacket all the way up to his chin and Connie's wrapped both hands around a thermos of coffee like it's the only warm thing left in the world.
Joseph drives slow, patient, calling out shapes in the distance that mean nothing to me yet — dark, low, indistinct against the flat pale grass — and then, as the light comes up in slow degrees, those shapes resolve themselves into actual animals, one by one, like the landscape's developing a photograph in real time.
Elephants first, a small loose herd grazing far off to the east, their gray hides catching the first proper light of the morning.
Jack's pressed himself flat against the window, bin
