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him greatly.
She was rather pleased for Fox Hair, nonetheless. He was amusing and willing
to make great efforts in
order to befriend her.
After a day of watching the two-legs interact from within their midst, she was
certain that they could talk as well as any wolf. Unlike wolves, however, they
mostly used their mouths, a thing she found limiting.
How could you tell someone to keep away from your food when your own mouth was
full?
While the two-legs were lighting their fire and taking all the things off the
not-elk that they had put on them with such effort a short time before, Fox
Hair motioned Firekeeper to join him by the fire. Although she disliked how
the smoke dulled her sense of smell, Firekeeper came over and seated herself
on a rock upwind.
While busily washing some vegetables in a container of water, Fox Hair
chattered squirrel-like at
Mountain, who was setting up one of the shelters. Feeling left out when Fox
Hair stopped, Firekeeper attempted to mimic his final string of sounds.
She was a good mimic. So long ago that she did not remember the learning, she
had discovered that imitating various bird and animal calls could bring her
prey to her, rather than forcing her to seek it over great distances.
Hearing her imitate him now, Fox Hair s eyes widened in an expression she
recognized as surprise. In a sharp tone, he said something to her. She did her
best to make the same noises back at him.
Hearing her, Mountain laughed and said something to Fox Hair. She mimicked him
as well, pitching her voice lower, though she could not reach his great,
thunder-deep rumbles.
Fox Hair nodded at this, reached up, and pulled at his mouth in what
Firekeeper was certain was a gesture of thought. Two-legs pulled at their
mouths a great deal. Those who grew hair there often fingered it or tugged at
it.
She wondered if her own inability to grow hair on her face would be a handicap
among two-legs, perhaps one as great as not having fangs had proved to be
among wolves. If so, she supposed, she could fasten another creature s hair
there, just as her Fang had compensated for her other natural shortcomings.
However, she hoped that since Fox Hair cut the hair from his face she would be
spared this.
Letting his hand drop into his lap, Fox Hair picked up one of the plant roots
that he had been washing a moment before.
Slowly and carefully, he said: Potato.
Firekeeper imitated him perfectly. Fox Hair smiled, picked up another root,
this one long and orange.
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Carrot.
She imitated him.
Onion.
A dozen items later, he began to repeat. Soon she had all the words and could,
when Fox Hair pointed to one or another of the items, match word to thing.
Fox Hair grinned his delight. Hawk Nose, who had been watching from a
distance, came over and tested her himself.
Firekeeper went through the routine again, aware that impressing this
two-legged One was important.
Hawk Nose nodded at her when she had finished, then said something rapidly to
Fox Hair. Fox Hair replied. His tones, Firekeeper noted, were more measured
than when he spoke with Mountain. She wondered if cadence indicated something,
perhaps relative standing within the pack.
After they had eaten, Fox Hair drew Firekeeper off to the side and continued
teaching her sounds. By full dark, she had learned several dozen more, knew
that the not-elk were horses, that the cringing spotted kin-creature was a
dog, that the shelters were tents.
She was a little puzzled to find that the same word applied to the small
shelters such as the one in which she slept and the larger one in which Hawk
Nose slept. They were so different in shape and purpose
Hawk Nose spent much time in his doing more than sleeping that she thought his
should have a different word.
More interesting was learning that the two-legs had names for themselves. Fox
Hair was called Derian.
Mountain was Ox.
Derian seemed uncertain what to name Hawk Nose. He tried various sounds. Then
he shrugged and shook his head, dismissing them all. Firekeeper was fascinated
and more than a little confused.
Despite her pleasure in discovering that one could communicate with two-legs,
when she heard Blind
Seer call, she was eager to leave and join him.
She rose, turning toward the forest. Fox Hair/Derian stood as well, his
expression anxious. Blind Seer howled again.
Come, Firekeeper! I m lonely!
Firekeeper smiled and started to walk toward the forest. Derian, to her
surprise, for he had never before laid even a finger on her without
permission, put his hand on her arm.
She stopped, stared at him, and, seeing concern evident on his features, did
not strike him. Perhaps two-legs, like wolves, touched for other reasons than
to attack.
Fox Hair gestured in the direction of Blind Seer s cry.
Wolf, he said.
Blind Seer howled again.
Wolf, Derian repeated anxiously.
Firekeeper gently pushed his hand from her arm and moved swiftly away. Before
she stepped into the darkness of the trees, she turned to Fox Hair and nodded.
Wolf, she agreed, and slipped into the night.
V
But this can t go on! exclaimed Race Forester, eyes ablaze.
Tomorrow we cross the gap; a day or two thereafter we re in populated lands.
What happens then when Lady Blysse slips off into the night and runs about in
the darkness?
There was a sneer in his voice when he said Lady, a sneer just this side of
unforgivable cheek, but Earl
Kestrel chose to overlook that insolence. No matter how rudely phrased, Race s
point was reasonable.
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Each night since they had broken camp at the ruins of Bardenville, Blysse had
left her tent and vanished into the night. What she did then, no one knew, but
she returned each day shortly before dawn.
They had made slower progress on their return east to civilization than they
had on the way out. The first day Earl Kestrel had called halt after a
half-day s travel, worried that the young woman would not have the stamina to
pace the horses any longer. He might also have been prompted by the steady
drizzle that had begun with first light and had never ceased unless turning
into intermittent sleet could be considered ceasing.
The second day their start had been late, for the camp had remained on alert
for many hours after Blysse had left Derian s side, in answer, it almost
seemed, to a howl of a wolf in the darkness beyond. Only on her return had
Earl Kestrel fallen into a restful sleep. The third day had been something of
a repetition of the second, though Earl Kestrel had permitted Valet to
convince him that wakeful watchfulness would do nothing to bring the girl
back, that indeed it might do the opposite.
The end of this fourth day of travel found them at the lower reaches of the
gap. Tomorrow they would attempt the crossing, a long, hard day s work even
for rested men. Although the earl had decreed an extra half-day for rest and
preparation, no one was relaxing. Even calm Ox and unflappable Valet kept
turning their gazes to the tree line, wondering what strange force might draw
Blysse out into the unfriendly darkness night after night.
Derian was the least happy of the lot. Looking at his charge clad in leather
vest and rough knee breeches she had made by chopping off a pair of the earl s
riding trousers just below her knees, she was a winsome figure, hardly female,
impossible to place in any of the categories he had encountered traveling
between Hawk Haven and Bright Bay on business with his father.
To some eyes, as she sat busily untangling her brown locks with the comb he
had shown her how to use three days before, Blysse could be any girl, albeit a
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