Though the thought itself was depressing, Kalus marveled at how quickly
and clearly it had formed in his mind. Forced to live without the
certainty of words, all previous thought patterns had of necessity been
based around images and memory, a slow, tedious process that had almost
always stifled him in any attempt at higher thinking. He thought of the
god whose voice he had heard---was that part real or imagined?---and of
its strange powers inside him. BUT WHAT DID IT ALL MEAN? The question
was too much for him. He put it from his mind.
His thoughts returning to his own survival, he began to search the
chamber for food. The girl seemed well fed, and there must doubtless be
a reason. He had known upon sight that she was not a hunter. Her eyes
showed no trace of the desperate aggression so permanently ingrained in
the predators of the Valley. There was a certain look a seasoned
carnivore developed, a hardened gleam, hungry and haunting, that
identified it instantly to others of its kind. Sylviana's eyes were
peaceful and trusting, something which had puzzled him from their first
meeting. And though he could not put the feeling into words, a part of
him deeply resented the apparent ease with which she survived. HER body
was clean and unscarred. Her stomach was full, and her muscles smooth
and round.
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