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. He could go no farther.
"Come on, then, pouncer," he muttered. "You have my
scent and you know where I am, so you are the chosen
one. Come along, now, and let's get it done. I'm tired."
Tiny clickings echoed up the split, needle tips of great
claws tapping at stone as the beast padded nearer. Now
he could hear its breath, the deep-chested, rumbling purr
of a huge cat closing on its prey.
Shadows shifted in the cleft, and he looked upward.
High above, where the walls opened upon sky, some-
thing moved. A face was there, tiny and distant, looking
down at him. It was there, then it withdrew. Someone
was atop the escarpment, above the rended cliffs, some-
one curious enough to look down and see what was hap-
pening below. But whoever it was, it meant nothing to
him, here. All that mattered in this moment was that he
was here, the cat was coming... and in a place far away
Jilian waited for him. He had promised her he would
return.
In the cold mist of his breath, he now saw her face. Of
them all, she was the only one who had truly believed
him. The only one with faith in him. He had told her
about the dreams. He had told several others, as well,
but of them all, Jilian believed.
Rogar Goldbuckle might have believed about the
dreams, but not about their portent
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