The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [394]
Yet, she was glad she had taught herself to hunt, though it was against Clan traditions. She was a woman and women of the Clan did not hunt, but if she hadn’t known how, she wouldn’t be alive now, even if she almost died for it after they found out. The first time she was cursed, when Brun expelled her from the clan, he limited the time to only one moon. It was the beginning of winter and they all expected her to die, but the hunting she was cursed for had saved her life from the curse. Maybe I should have died then, she thought.
She had defied the way of the Clan again when she ran away with Durc, but she couldn’t let them expose her newborn son to the mercy of the elements and carnivores just because they thought he was deformed. Brun had spared them, though Broud objected. He had never made her life easy. When he became leader and cursed her, it was forever and for no good reason, and that time she was finally forced to leave the clan. Hunting saved her then, too. She would never have survived in the valley, if she wasn’t a hunter, and if she hadn’t known that she could live alone if she had to.
Ayla was still thinking about the Clan, and how to handle the rituals associated with the roots properly when she returned to the camp. She saw Jonayla sitting with Proleva and Marthona. They waved and beckoned to her.
“Come, have something to eat,” Proleva said. Wolf had grown tired of walking with the melancholy man, who did nothing but shuffle along, and had come back to find Jonayla. He was on the other side of the fire gnawing a bone, and looked up. Ayla walked in their direction. She gave her daughter a hug, then held her off and looked at her with a strange sadness and hugged her again, almost too hard.
“Your hair is wet, mother,” Jonayla said, squirming out of the way.
“I just washed it,” Ayla said, petting the large wolf, who had come to greet her. She took the handsome head between her hands, looked deeply into his eyes, then hugged him with fervor. When she stood up, the wolf looked up at her with anticipation. She patted the front of her shoulders. He jumped up, steadied himself with his paws on her shoulders, licked her neck and face, then took her jaw gently in his teeth and held it. When he let go, she returned the wolf signal of pack membership, taking his muzzle in her teeth for a moment. She hadn’t done that for a while and Ayla thought he seemed pleased.
Proleva let out the breath she’d been holding when Wolf dropped down. That particular bit of wolfish behavior from Ayla was disturbing no matter how many times she saw it. Watching the woman exposing her neck to the teeth of the huge wolf always unnerved her, and made her realize that the friendly, well-behaved animal was a powerful wolf who could easily kill any one of the humans he mingled with so freely.
After she caught her breath and settled her apprehensions, Proleva commented, “Help yourself, Ayla. There’s plenty. This morning’s meal was easy to make. There was a lot left over from yesterday’s feast. I’m glad we decided to make a meal together with the Lanzadonii. I liked working with Jerika and Joplaya, and several of the other women. I feel as though I know them better now.”
Ayla felt a pang of regret. She wished she hadn’t been so busy with the zelandonia; she would have liked to help with the feast. Working together was a good way to get to know people better. Being wrapped up in her own problems didn’t help either; she could have gotten there earlier, she thought, as she picked up one of the extra cups that were set out for those who forgot their own, and dipped a cup of chamomile tea from the large, kerfed wooden cooking box. Tea was always the first thing made in the morning.
“The aurochs is particularly good and juicy, Ayla. They’ve started to put on their winter fat, and Proleva just reheated it. You should try some,” Marthona urged, noticing that she wasn’t taking any food. “Food holders are over there.” She