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Ayla didn’t guide the horse She let Whinney take her, only subli land, didn’t know her tears were adding their salty , her thoughts turned inward She recalled the first time she saw the valley and the herd of horses in the ht about her decision to stay, her need to hunt She re Whinney to the safety of her fire and her cave She should have known it couldn’t last, that someday Whinney would return to her own kind, just as she herself needed to do

A change in the horse’s pace jogged her attention Whinney had found what she was looking for A small band of horses was ahead

The sun had reen shoots poking above the ground The anie, were nibbling the succulent neth Whinney stopped when the other horses looked up at her Ayla heard the neigh of a stallion Off to the side, on a knoll she hadn’t noticed before, she saw him He was dark reddish broith a black s She had never seen a horse so deeply colored Most of thee dun, or, like Whinney, the yellow color of ripe hay

The stallion screamed, lifted his head, and curled back his upper lip He reared and galloped toward theround His neck was arched, his tail was raised, and his erection was nificent

Whinney nickered in reply, and Ayla slid off her back She gave the horse a hug, then backed away Whinney turned her head to look at the young woman who had taken care of her since she was a foal

“Go to hio to him”

Whinney tossed her head and neighed softly, then faced the bay stallion He circled behind her, head low, nipping her hocks, herding Whinney closer to his flock, as if she were a recalcitrant truant Ayla watched her go, unable to leave When the studBroud, and the terrible pain Later, it had only been unpleasant, but she always hated it when Broud rew tired of it

But for all the screa to reject her stallion, and, as she watched, Ayla felt strange stirrings within herself, sensations she could not explain She could not tear her eyes away fros up on Whinney’s back, pu She felt a etness between her legs, a rhyth, and an inco hard, felt her heart reverberating in her head, and ached with longing for so she couldn’t describe

Afterward, when the yellow horse willingly followed the bay, without so much as a backward look, Ayla felt an eht she could not bear it She realized how fragile was the world she had built for herself in the valley, how ephemeral had been her happiness, how precarious her existence She turned and ran back toward the valley She ran until her breath tore her throat, until pain stabbed her side She ran, hoping soh, she could leave behind all the heartache and loneliness

She stumbled down the slope that led to the edly for breath Even after she could breathe again, she didn’t move She didn’t want to move She didn’t want to cope, or try, or live What was the use? She was cursed, wasn’t she?

Why can’t I just die then? Like I’ I love? She felt a war the salt froe cave lion

“Oh, Baby!” she cried, reaching for him He sprawled out beside her and, with claws retracted, put a heavy foreleg over her She rolled over, hugged his furry neck, and buried her face in his lengthening mane

When she finally cried herself out and tried to get up, she felt the result of her fall Lacerated hands, skinned knees and elbows, a bruised hip and shin, and her right cheek was sore She li her scrapes and bruises, she had a sobering thought What if I’d broken a bone? That could be worse than dying, with no one to help

I didn’t, though If my totem wants to keep me alive, maybe he has a reason Maybe the spirit of the Cave Lion sent Baby to me because he knew Whinney would leave someday

Baby will leave, too It won’t be long before he ant a ular pride He’s going to be so big that he’ll be able to defend a big territory And he’s a good hunter He won’t go hungry while he’s looking for a pride, or at least one lioness

She s about her son growing up to be a big brave hunter After all, he’s not my son He’s just a lion, an ordinary … No, he’s not an ordinary cave lion He is alrown cave lions already, and he is an early hunter But he will leave me…

Durc , too Oda will feel sad when Ura leaves to be Durc’s mate and live with Brun’s clan… No, it’s Broud’s clan no long will it be until the next Clan Gathering?

She reached behind the bed for the bundle of ht It was a habit, a ritual She untied the bundle and laid theround, then tried to count the days since she had found her valley She fitted her hands into the notches, but there were toothe ether and add up in so she’d been there, but she didn’t kno It was so frustrating Then she realized she didn’t need the sticks; she could think of the years by counting each spring Durc was born the spring before the last Clan Gathering, she thought The next spring ended his birth year Sheyear; shewould have been the end of his nursing year and the beginning of his weaning year—except he was already weaned She made a third mark

That hen I left—she sed hard and blinked her eyes—and that su, I found Baby She… She didn’t want to think about losing Whinney as a way to remember the year, but it was a fact She made a fifth mark

That’s all the fingers of one hand—she held up her left hand—and that’s how er of the right hand—And this et back, Ura will be with theh toat her that she is for Durc I wonder, does he remember me? Will he have Clan memories? How much of him is me, and how much Broud … Clan?

Ayla gathered up her ularity in the number of marks between the extra notches that she made when her spirit battled and she bled Whatwith nant It takes a an, to start a baby That’s what I think

Whinney! Is that what that stallion was doing? Was he getting a baby started in you? Maybe I’ll see you sometime with that herd, and find out Oh, Whinney, that would be wonderful

Thoughts of Whinney and the stallion made her quiver Her breath caht of Broud, and the pleasant sensations stopped But it was his organ that started Durc If he’d known it would give me a baby, he would never have done it And Durc will have Ura She’s not deformed either I think Ura was started when that ht for Durc She’s part Clan, and part that man of the Others A man of the Others …

Ayla was restless Baby was gone, and she felt the need to beShe went out and strolled just outside the line of brush that hugged the streah she had ridden as far on Wh

inney’s back She was going to have to get used to walking again, she realized, and to carrying a basket on her back At the far end of the valley she followed the strea south Just beyond the turn, the stream swirled around rocks that could have been placed on purpose, they were so neatly spaced for stepping stones The high as only a steep grade at this place She scrambled up and looked out across the western steppes

There was no real difference betest and east, except for a slightly rougher terrain, and she was far less familiar with the west She always knew that when she decided to leave the valley she would go west She turned around, crossed the strea valley back to the cave