Author's note: I truly apologize for being away from this story for so long. All I can say is that school and other fanfiction consumed my life. So here is more, and hopefully the next part will come (much) sooner than this one.
--Tamara


Ayla and Durc rode back long after dark, both tired but content. Jondalar's tip about the fire had been a good one, and they'd gotten two deer almost without having to work for them. Of course, they hadn't been the only ones at the fire, and Ayla shivered convulsively as she recalled the confrontation with the unknown cat. It had only been luck that had protected them from its enormous teeth, and even then, they almost hadn't been fast enough.

"Mama?"

Ayla turned to look at her son, then realized she'd been sitting on Whinney's back, oblivious to everything but the terror of the memory. She nodded to him, then swung down, trying not to let her exhaustion control her movements. She knew that, had she been less tired, the memory of the incident wouldn't have such a crippling effect on her ability to do anything.

Durc was already dealing with the carcasses. Ayla joined him, dragging it off the travois and over to the side of the trail for butchering. By the time the came back for the second one, Zurc had escaped Jondalar's hold and was eagerly sucking milk from Whinney's swollen udder. Ayla didn't bother pushing him away, though it would impede their progress to have the colt underfoot.

Jondalar, close behind the colt, seemed to sense her irritation, and he coaxed Zurc away from his dam and back towards him. Ayla flashed him a brief smile of thanks, while ignoring Durc's palpable displeasure. She knew that eventually, she would have to deal with Durc's prejudices, but not now. All she wanted to do now was to fall onto her pallet and sleep. But she couldn't. She had to deal with the deer before the hyenas sensed a meal.

"That fire must have been far away," Jondalar commented, still holding Zurc as they made their way to the cave. "Have you been riding all day?"

Ayla nodded. "Yes. Big fire. Many animals die. Many others come take, like we do. Saw many. Saw one never seen before." She shuddered again, and Durc, understanding the basics of the story, if not her actual words, clenched his fists to keep from doing the same.

"What kind of animal?" Jondalar asked, curious.

Ayla shrugged helplessly. "Not know name." She pantomimed the animal's terrible teeth, wondering if Jondalar knew it.

Sure enough, he stiffened, his eyes wide in his tanned face. "A dirk-toothed tiger! I didn't know those were real."

"You hear of tiger before?"

He nodded. "An old man used to say that he'd seen one, but no one really believed him. You really saw it?"

She nodded, wondering vaguely how he could doubt her. Wasn't it obvious? "Come close. Whinney and Durc and Ayla scared. Throw rock from sling. Whinney run fast. Tiger not follow. Too many dead pray for it eat."

Jondalar swore, using words he hadn't taught Ayla. "You drove it off with just your sling? That's incredible!"

Ayla shrugged, warmed by the compliment despite her fatigue. "Lots of meat. Not need chase."

He nodded as if that made perfect sense to him. She took a deep breath, knowing that there was work to be done. She couldn't collapse yet. Even with Durc to help, butchering the deer would take many long hours.

He was already there, getting to work on the smaller of the two. She nodded to him and squatted down before the other one, feeling in her pouch for her knife. Looking at it, she realized just how dull it really was. What with the extra work needed to care for three people, one of whom couldn't care for himself yet, she simply hadn't had time for anything other than what was needed for survival. Now, looking down at the dull edge, she wished passionately that nothing had changed.

But she didn't. Even through her exhaustion and her frustration, she couldn't bring herself to be sorry that Jondalar had come. He was one of the Others, one of her people and, despite the distaste he seemed to feel for her body, he was one whose needs she wanted to relieve.

She bent to her task, sawing at the hide with too-dull knife, fighting the tears of exhausted frustration welling in her eyes.

Suddenly, he was there, his face worried. "What's wrong?"

She lacked the words to tell him and, anyway, this wasn't his work. She could do this. She had to.

"You're tired. Why don't you do this tomorrow?"

She shook her head. She couldn't leave it until tomorrow. The hyenas would come during the night and steal her meat, and all this work would be wasted. "Hyena come, steal meat."

He put a hand on her shoulder, gently taking the knife from her hand. "I'll watch it. You sleep."

She looked up at him, her eyes full of a gratitude she didn't know was possible. How could she say how much this meant to her? She resolved to do something for him, to show her true appreciation for this gesture. He didn't have to. None of the men of the Clan would have. Yet here he was, offering to inconvenience himself for her. For them. She rose and Durc followed.

"Where are you going?" he asked, confused.

"Jondalar will watch the meat. Come. We must sleep."

He frowned, but he too was tired, and any objections he might have about leaving the meat in the care of a man of the Others was completely eclipsed by his overwhelming exhaustion.

They somehow made it to the cave, where Whinney and Zurc were already asleep, and fell into their pallets, asleep before their heads touched the ground.