I was sitting inside the dark, yak-hair tent of a nomad family in Ladakh, in the Indian Himalaya.
Outside, some scruffy sheep searched for greenery among the cold and barren moonscape, and large raptors circled in the thermals.
As we huddled around the hearth, the old man handed me a small glass of salty, yak-butter tea.
“There were wolves here two nights ago,” he told me through a translator.
“This time I chased them away, but they will come back again and try and get at my sheep.