when she said that this place might not be good for his kind?
Faolan preferred to hunt at night, but the nights were becoming shorter and shorter. And when the frost forest seemed to tilt and turn full into the sun, the night simply vanished along with the last remnants of sparkling frost. Thunderheart had told him this happened in the Outermost. There would be no night, no darkness, only sun for the next few cycles of the moon.
On the same day that night disappeared, Faolan began tracking a cougar. Cougars were dangerous. Thunderheart had told him how just before she found Faolan, cougars had killed her cub. They were big—bigger than marmots or wolverines—and fast and cunning. She had told Faolan that he would not be ready to tackle a cougar for a long time. But he felt ready now. And in the back of his mind a strange logic had started to haunt him. If I can kill the cougar, he thought, the cougar who took Thunderheart’ s cub, maybe she will come back to me.
He had been tracking the cougar from the time the sun had first risen until it hung low in the sky and seemed to hover endlessly above the horizon like a vigilant goldeneye watching the earth. And so am I, Faolan thought as he entered the second day of tracking the cougar. The loitering sun inspired him.
It was well into the second day when he began to sense the cougar was tiring, that he was actually closing the distance. But Faolan also became aware of another presence, one that had been following him for a shorter time but was persistent nonetheless. He was immediately wary.
Faolan had developed a quickness of mind that allowed him to concentrate deeply and yet at the same time maintain his alertness. He had caught his first glimpse of his tracker, a tawny smear, behind a thicket of bracken. He was being followed closely now. But he would not be forced off the track of the cougar, nor would he rush the kill.
He spotted the cougar settling down with a hare. The cougar was a bit larger than Faolan, longer and lower to the ground, but it appeared more slender and its chest seemed narrower. Faolan had been careful to maneuver himself into a position downwind of the cougar so his scent would not be carried. He had so skillfully tracked his prey that the big cat was completely unaware of his presence. He was certain, however, that there were twoother wolves tracking him. They want this meat, too. But I’m no raven! I’ll not eat second.
Faolan crept up on the cougar to almost within pouncing distance when a sudden shift in the wind brought his scent to the cat. He saw the flicker of the cougar’s nostrils and then the cougar was off. But Faolan was not about to give up. The cougar seemed to be devouring the land in front of him. Faolan kept up. I will kill you and eat you. I shall grow fat on the meat that devoured Thunderheart’s cub. For Thunderheart! The sound of his feet engulfed him and the thunderous heart of the grizzly became his. There was a thin stand of trees ahead. He had almost reached the cougar when the cat leaped up into the tree.
An image flashed in Faolan’s mind. The looming figure of Thunderheart rearing up against a dazzling sun, bright green leaves caught in the last rays as they fluttered down. He leaped now, as he had with Thunderheart. He leaped so high that the cougar made a sound halfway between a snarl and a scream. It was a sound of alarm. But Faolan had clamped on to the cat’s paw and dragged him from the limb.
Stunned, for never had a cat been felled in this manner, the cougar could not react quickly enough. Faolansank his teeth into the vein just beneath the cougar’s jaw, the vein that Thunderheart taught him pumped the life-blood and must be cut in order to kill. The cougar twitched once, then again. He was dying.
An instinct rose within Faolan that surprised him. He unclamped his long teeth, and he laid his own head down on the ground so he could look directly into the eyes of the dying cat. They stared at each other
Faolan preferred to hunt at night, but the nights were becoming shorter and shorter. And when the frost forest seemed to tilt and turn full into the sun, the night simply vanished along with the last remnants of sparkling frost. Thunderheart had told him this happened in the Outermost. There would be no night, no darkness, only sun for the next few cycles of the moon.
On the same day that night disappeared, Faolan began tracking a cougar. Cougars were dangerous. Thunderheart had told him how just before she found Faolan, cougars had killed her cub. They were big—bigger than marmots or wolverines—and fast and cunning. She had told Faolan that he would not be ready to tackle a cougar for a long time. But he felt ready now. And in the back of his mind a strange logic had started to haunt him. If I can kill the cougar, he thought, the cougar who took Thunderheart’ s cub, maybe she will come back to me.
He had been tracking the cougar from the time the sun had first risen until it hung low in the sky and seemed to hover endlessly above the horizon like a vigilant goldeneye watching the earth. And so am I, Faolan thought as he entered the second day of tracking the cougar. The loitering sun inspired him.
It was well into the second day when he began to sense the cougar was tiring, that he was actually closing the distance. But Faolan also became aware of another presence, one that had been following him for a shorter time but was persistent nonetheless. He was immediately wary.
Faolan had developed a quickness of mind that allowed him to concentrate deeply and yet at the same time maintain his alertness. He had caught his first glimpse of his tracker, a tawny smear, behind a thicket of bracken. He was being followed closely now. But he would not be forced off the track of the cougar, nor would he rush the kill.
He spotted the cougar settling down with a hare. The cougar was a bit larger than Faolan, longer and lower to the ground, but it appeared more slender and its chest seemed narrower. Faolan had been careful to maneuver himself into a position downwind of the cougar so his scent would not be carried. He had so skillfully tracked his prey that the big cat was completely unaware of his presence. He was certain, however, that there were twoother wolves tracking him. They want this meat, too. But I’m no raven! I’ll not eat second.
Faolan crept up on the cougar to almost within pouncing distance when a sudden shift in the wind brought his scent to the cat. He saw the flicker of the cougar’s nostrils and then the cougar was off. But Faolan was not about to give up. The cougar seemed to be devouring the land in front of him. Faolan kept up. I will kill you and eat you. I shall grow fat on the meat that devoured Thunderheart’s cub. For Thunderheart! The sound of his feet engulfed him and the thunderous heart of the grizzly became his. There was a thin stand of trees ahead. He had almost reached the cougar when the cat leaped up into the tree.
An image flashed in Faolan’s mind. The looming figure of Thunderheart rearing up against a dazzling sun, bright green leaves caught in the last rays as they fluttered down. He leaped now, as he had with Thunderheart. He leaped so high that the cougar made a sound halfway between a snarl and a scream. It was a sound of alarm. But Faolan had clamped on to the cat’s paw and dragged him from the limb.
Stunned, for never had a cat been felled in this manner, the cougar could not react quickly enough. Faolansank his teeth into the vein just beneath the cougar’s jaw, the vein that Thunderheart taught him pumped the life-blood and must be cut in order to kill. The cougar twitched once, then again. He was dying.
An instinct rose within Faolan that surprised him. He unclamped his long teeth, and he laid his own head down on the ground so he could look directly into the eyes of the dying cat. They stared at each other
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