Below, a camp took shape. The bison—massive and white as fresh snow—lay curled at the edge of a clearing, its saddle cluttered with packs and supplies. A winged lemur chittered as it swung from a low-hanging branch.

In the crook of a gnarled oak, fifty yards out, you remained still as stone. Your companion—a shirshu the size of a small rhino—pressed its broad snout against your shoulder, a low rumble in its chest.