Everyone stayed at Cattail Camp that night, and the tent was crowded. Ranec waited until Ayla finally started to slide into her fur bedroll, then he quickly went to his.

"Will you share my furs tonight, Ayla?" Ranec watched her close her eyes and frown. "I don't mean for Pleasures," he added quickly, "unless you want to. I know this has been a hard day for you…"

"I think it's been harder for Lion Camp," Ayla said.

"I don't think it's been any harder, but that doesn't matter. I just want to give you something, Ayla. My furs to keep you warm, my love to comfort you. I want to be close to you tonight."

She nodded acquiescence, and slid into Ranec's bedroll with him, but she could not sleep, could not even rest comfortably, and he was aware of it.

"Ayla, what's troubling you? Would you like to talk about it?" Ranec said.

"I've been thinking about Rydag, and my son, but I don't know if I can talk about it. I just need to think about it."

"You'd rather be in your own bed, wouldn't you?" he finally said.

"I know you want to help, Ranec, and that in itself helps more than I can say. I can't tell you how much it meant to me when I saw you there, standing beside me. I am so grateful to the Lion Camp, too. Everyone has been so good, so wonderful to me, almost too wonderful. I learned so much from them, and I was so proud to be Mamutoi, to say they were my people. I thought all the Others – the ones I used to call the Others – were like the Lion Camp, but now I know that isn't true. Like the Clan, most people are good people, but not everyone, and even good people are not good about everything. I had some ideas and… I was making some plans… but, I need to think, now."

"And you can think better in your own bed, not cramped in here with me. Go ahead, Ayla, you'll still be next to me," Ranec said.

Ranec wasn't the only one who had been watching Ayla, and when Jondalar saw her get out of Ranec's bedroll and into her own, he had a strange set of mixed feelings. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to grit his teeth against the sounds of them sharing Pleasures, but he felt a pang of regret for Ranec. If he had been in the dark carver's place, he would have wanted to hold Ayla, and comfort her, try to take on some of her pain. It would have hurt him if she had left his bed to sleep alone.

After Ranec fell asleep and a deep stillness settled on the Camp, Ayla quietly got up, slipped on a light parka against the nighttime chill, and went outside into the dark starlit night. In a moment, Wolf was beside her. They walked toward the horse lean-to, and were welcomed by a nicker from Racer, and a soft blow of recognition from Whinney. After patting and scratching, and quiet words, Ayla put her arms around Whinney's neck, and leaned on her.

How many times had the hay-colored mare been her friend when she needed one? Ayla smiled. What would the Clan think of her friends? Two horses and a wolf! She was grateful for their presence, their company, but there was still an emptiness inside her. Someone was missing, the one she wanted most. Yet he had been there. Even before the Lion Camp stood up for her. She didn't even know where he came from. Suddenly Jondalar was just there, beside her, standing against them all. Against their repugnance, their disgust. It had been terrible, worse than the Clan Gathering. It wasn't just that she was different. They feared her, hated her. That's what he'd been trying to tell her all along. But even if she'd known, it wouldn't have made any difference. She couldn't let them pick on Rydag, or malign her son.

From the opening of the tent, another pair of eyes watched her. Jondalar could not sleep either. He had seen her get up, and quietly followed her. How many times had he seen her like that with Whinney? He was happy that she had the animals to turn to, but he ached to be in the mare's place. But it was too late. She didn't want him, and he couldn't blame her. With a sudden realization, he saw through his emotional confusion, saw his actions with a new clarity, and realized that he had done it himself. In the very beginning, he wasn't just being "fair" and letting her make her own choice. He had turned away from her, out of petty jealousy. He was hurt, and wanted to hurt back.

There was more to it than that, admit it, Jondalar, he said to himself. You were hurt, but you knew how she was raised. She didn't even understand your jealousy. When she went to Ranec's bed that night, she was only being a "good Clan woman." That was the real problem, her Clan background. You were ashamed of it. You were ashamed to love her, afraid you would have to face what she faced today. You didn't know if you could stand up for her. No matter how much you said you loved her, you were afraid you'd turn against her, too. Well, there is no shame in loving her, the shame is in your own cowardice. And now it's too late. She didn't need you. She stood up for herself, and then the whole Lion Camp stood up for her. She doesn't need you at all, and you don't deserve her.

Finally the chill drove Ayla back in. She glanced toward Jondalar's sleeping place when she entered the tent. He was rolled over on his side, facing the other way. She slipped into her bed, and felt a heavy, sleeping hand reach for her. Ranec did love her, she knew that. And she loved him, too, in her own way. She lay still, and listened to Ranec's steady breathing. After a while he rolled the other way and the hand was gone.

Ayla tried to sleep, but she couldn't stop thinking. She had wanted to go for Durc and bring him back to Lion Camp to live with her. Now she questioned if that would be best for him. Would he be happier here with her than he would be living with the Clan? Could he be happy living with people who would hate him? Who would call him a flathead and worse, a half-animal abomination? With the Clan, he was known, and loved; he was one of them. Maybe Broud hated him, but even at the Clan Gathering, he would have friends. He was accepted, he would be allowed to join in the competitions, and the ceremonies – did Durc have the Clan memories? she wondered.

If she couldn't take him away, could she go back to the Clan and live? Now that she had found people like herself, could she ever accept Clan ways again? They would never allow her to keep her animals. Would she be willing to give up Whinney and Racer, and Wolf, and be only Durc's mother? Does Durc need a mother? He was a baby when I left, but he's not a baby any more. By now, Brun is teaching him to hunt.

He has probably made his first small kills, and brought them back to show Uba. Ayla smiled to herself at the picture that evoked. Uba would praise him so highly, and tell him what a brave, strong hunter he is.

Durc has a mother! she realized. Uba is his mother. Uba has raised him, taken care of him, nursed his little cuts and scrapes. How can I take him away from her? Who would take care of her when she gets old? Even when he was a baby, the other women in the clan were more mother to him than I was after I lost my milk.

How can I go back and get him, anyway? I am cursed. To the Clan, I am Dead! If Durc saw me, I would only frighten him, and everyone else. Even if there was no death curse on me, would he be happy to see me? Would he even remember me?

He was hardly more than a baby when I left. By now, he is at the Clan Gathering and has met Ura. He's young yet, but he must be thinking about the time when they will mate. He is planning to make a hearth – just as I am, she thought. Even if I could convince him I wasn't a spirit, Durc would have to bring Ura with him, and Ura would be miserable here. It will be difficult enough for her to leave her own clan and live with Durc and his clan, but to move into a world in which nothing was familiar would be so much worse. Especially a world where she would be hated and misunderstood.