The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [59]
“I’m going away for a while,” she said softly to the animal, repeating the meaning in the sign language of the Clan, though it was inconspicuous to most of those watching. Sometimes Wolf seemed to comprehend hand signals even better than words, but she generally used both when she was trying to communicate something important to him. “Folara is going to watch Jonayla and Sethona. You can stay here with the babies and watch them, too, but you must do what Folara tells you. Jondalar will be nearby.”
She stood up and hugged her baby, and said good-bye to the others. Jondalar embraced her briefly as they pressed cheeks, and then she left. She wouldn’t say even to herself that Wolf really understood everything she said, but when she talked to him like that, he paid close attention to her, and did seem to follow her instructions. She had noticed that the Zelandoni of the Twenty-sixth Cave had followed them and she knew he saw her with Wolf. His face still showed his surprise, though it wasn’t obvious to everyone. Ayla was accustomed to reading meaning from subtle nuances; it was necessary in the language of the Clan, and she had learned to apply the skill to interpreting unconscious meaning in her own kind.
The man didn’t say anything as they fell into step and walked back to the zelandonia dwelling together, but he had been astounded when she bared her throat to the wolf’s fangs. The Twenty-sixth Cave had gone to a different Summer Meeting the year before and he hadn’t seen her with the animal when she first arrived. First, he was surprised to see a hunting meat-eater calmly approaching with the people of the Ninth Cave, then he was amazed at the size of the animal. When he saw Wolf jump up on his hind legs, he was sure it was the biggest one of his kind he had ever seen. Of course, he’d never been quite so close to a living wolf before, but the animal was nearly as tall as the woman!
He had heard that the First’s new acolyte had a way with animals and that a wolf followed her around, but he knew how people exaggerated and while he didn’t deny what anyone said, he wasn’t sure he fully believed it either. Perhaps a wolf had been seen near the Meeting and people were led to believe it was watching her. But this wasn’t a creature skulking around the outskirts of the group, who may have been watching her from a distance, as he’d imagined. There was direct communication, understanding, and trust between them. The Zelandoni of the Twenty-sixth Cave had never seen anything like it and it piqued his interest in Ayla even more. Young mother or not, perhaps she did belong in the zelandonia.
It was well into the morning by the time the small group approached the unremarkable cave in the face of a low limestone cliff. There were four of them: the Zelandoni of the Twenty-sixth Cave; his acolyte, a quiet young man named Falithan, although he often referred to himself as the First Acolyte of the Zelandoni of the Twenty-sixth; Jonokol, the talented artist who had been the First’s acolyte the year before; and Ayla.
She had enjoyed talking to Jonokol along the way, though it made her realize how much he had changed in the last year. When she first met him he was more artist than acolyte, and had joined the zelandonia because it allowed him to freely exercise his talent. He’d had no great desire to become a Zelandoni, he was content to remain an acolyte, but that had changed. He had become more serious, she thought. He wanted to paint the white cave that she, or rather Wolf, had found the previous summer, but not just for the joy of the art. He knew it was a remarkably hallowed place, a sacred refuge created by the Mother, whose white calcite walls offered a extraordinary invitation to be made into a distinctive place to commune with the