And the birds! Acres of flamingos turned the shore of a lake a brilliant orangey-pink. Small brown birds hid in the grass, while bright parrots perched in the occasional tree. Crows and magpies lent their raucous cries to the snorts of the lions and the trumpeting of the elephants, while above it all floated an eagle, watching with keen eyes for his prey.
In the grass, besides smaller birds there were mice and rabbits, little squirrellike animals, snakes, lizards and chameleons, insects.
The life of the plain called to something in Wulfston’s blood. He was one with that community of nature under the open sky. It didn’t even seem strange that he was seeing and hearing things too distant or too small and faint to perceive with his normal senses.
He knew what he had never consciously known before: his ancestors had come from here, from the plain, not from the jungle where enemies lurked. This… was home.
As if to reassure himself that he was not imagining his new senses, Wulfston became aware of two dogs-the young dogs of his dream. They were at the edge of the jungle, in the shade, the male lying down while the female licked at a nasty wound high on his left hind leg.
They were black, about half-grown. Wulfston understood they had been turned out of the pack to learn to fend for themselves, and would not be able to join another pack until they were grown. So they struggled to survive, their once happy rabbit-chasing no longer a game, but a deadly-earnest search for food.
Wulfston turned, and made out the two dogs because he knew where to look. They blended into the shadows, but he recognized that their black color would make them as conspicuous on the golden plain… as he was in the Savage Lands.
Using his power to make animals trust him, Wulfston walked toward the two dogs. When he came near, he saw that despite the way they had cleaned it with their tongues, the gash inflicted by the hyena’s filthy teeth was starting to fester.
“Easy, boy,” Wulfston murmured, offering his closed hand to the male. The female bristled, and snarled at him from behind her brother.
But when the male sniffed his hand and accepted a pat on the head, Wulfston turned his attention to the young bitch and soon had her nuzzling his hand. He wished he had food to offer, but he was as hungry as they were.
When both dogs were calm, Wulfston laid his hand over the wound and sent healing heat to drive out the infection. He closed the wound from the inside out, while the female paced nervously and tried to shove her nose under his hand. When the healing was complete he let her, and watched both dogs sniff and lick the area where the wound had been, unable to understand where it had gone.
The male got up and tried his leg; he didn’t limp at all. In a moment he was belly-down, hindquarters-up, inviting his sister to play.
Wulfston let the pups tumble for a few moments, then mentally called them to his side. “You,” he told the male, “are Traylo, and you are Arlus,” to the female, “and we are going to hunt some rabbits!”
Wulfston did the actual hunting, but the dogs didn’t know that. When he called a rabbit from its burrow, Traylo and Arlus dashed after it. The rabbit tore off through the grass with the yipping dogs in hot pursuit.
But the object was food, not games. Before the rabbit could pop down another hole, Wulfston stopped its heart, then tried to control the dogs-
They were on their prey, hungry and victorious! Gleefully, they ripped into the warm, quivering flesh, fighting over the tender innards. Fur flew as they shredded the skin to reach the flesh, filling their bellies at last!
It was only when the dogs began to gnaw on the stripped bones that Wulfston came to himself, to the demands of his own empty stomach. He could smell and taste the raw meat, and the lingering memory when he withdrew forcefully from the dogs’ perspective made him momentarily queasy.
Not for long, however; he had used what energy his early-morning meal had given him in healing Traylo, and his body once more clamored for food. Leaving the dogs to their prey, he caught and killed another rabbit, and soon had it spitted over a small fire.
Watching that the fire did not throw sparks into the grass, Wulfston pulled the outer flesh off the rabbit as it cooked, and ate while he considered what to do. Head toward that lake he had Read, for a drink of water. Perhaps he would find a trail there. Surely people would have settled along such a body of water, or would stop there on journeys across the plains. Perhaps he would find a trail leading south. To people.
He would have to approach people soon, if only to discover what fruits and vegetables he dared to eat in this land. Meat alone was inadequate nutrition, yet he feared to risk poison by eating the bright red berries that tempted him from a nearby thicket.
Traylo and Arlus came back. They accepted the bones from his rabbit, but buried them, as they were no longer hungry. Soon they were curled up together, fast asleep.
The more he thought, the more Wulfston realized that he could not avoid human habitation. Although his Adept powers allowed him to clean a rabbit without a knife, that was wasteful. And Adept or no, he had no way to carry water without some kind of container.
Zanos and Astra and the others would be looking for him in the settlements, too, not out on the plain.
Yes, he would walk to the lake and see what trail he might pick up there.
Making certain the fire was out, Wulfston wrapped what was left of the rabbit in some leaves and set out.
Traylo and Arlus trotted along beside him until his direction was established, then veered off after fascinating scents.
It was hot under the direct sun. Wulfston’s black skin never burned like Aradia’s fairness, but after a while he wished he had a covering for his head. The animals had ceased their restless activity, spending the heat of the day in burrows or in the shade of grass or thickets. Even the herd animals lay down to rest in the hot afternoon glare.
Wulfston could see the lake ahead… or was it a mirage formed by the waves of heat? He noticed the two dogs now moving straight ahead, no more forays to either side, and wondered if they could smell water.
With the thought, he was in their perceptions again, scenting the welcome wetness, sharing their thirst.
Their keen noses told them far more than their eyes-they could not see the zebra off to their left, but the not-quite-horse smell was as clear as the smell inside a stable to Wulfston.
It didn’t disturb Traylo and Arlus when Wulfston shared their perceptions, so he remained within their minds, hearing the sounds of birds huddling down as the danger passed, smelling a wider variety of scents than he had ever imagined, but seeing little.
It wasn’t just that the dogs’ eyes were so close to ground level; their way of seeing was different. There were not nearly as many colors as Wulfston was used to, and everything was slightly out of focus.
With human instinct, he tried to see more clearly, but the blur of tannish grass persisted. Suddenly there was a movement ahead. A startled rodent dropped the stalk it had been chewing on and scurried for its burrow, Arlus and Traylo in hot pursuit.
There were two rodents, one to the left and one to the right! He tried to turn toward one-then-
— tripped over a hummock and fell sprawling, the grass giving way to let him hit the ground with a bruising thump.
Back in his own senses, Wulfston realized what had happened: he had been looking through both dogs’
eyes at once, each seeing the same rodent from a different perspective.
He laughed as he picked himself up, and decided he would not do that again-at least until he had had more practice at watching where he was going while he Read something else!
Now he could definitely see the lake ahead. The dogs, having lost the little rodent, raced merrily into the shallow water and stopped to lap it up eagerly. Wulfston was not far behind them. He knelt, and dipped up water with his hands, then went in farther to cool off, trying to watch for dangerous animals as he splashed the water all over himself.