The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [221]
“You’d better take your share of food, too,” she said, as he stuffed things into a back carrier. Then, trying to find a way to make the separation not quite so complete, she added, “Though I don’t know who will cook for you there. It is not a real hearth.”
“Who do you think cooked for me when I was on my Journey? A donii? I don’t need a woman to take care of me. I’ll cook for myself!” He stomped away, his arms full of furs, through the Fox Hearth and the Lion Hearth, and threw his bedding down near the tool-working area. Ayla watched him go, not wanting to believe it.
The lodge was buzzing with talk about their separation. Deegie hurried down the passageway after hearing the news, finding it hard to believe. She and her mother had gone to the Aurochs Hearth while Ayla was feeding the wolf and spoke together quietly for some time. Deegie, who had also changed into dry clothes, looked both chastened and resolute. Yes, they should not have stayed out so long, for their own safety as well as for the concern they caused others, but no, under the circumstances, she would not have done anything differently. Tulie would like to have spoken to Ayla as well, but felt it would be inappropriate, especially after hearing Deegie’s story. Ayla had told Deegie to go back before they started their senseless wolf tracking, and they were both grown young women who should be perfectly able to take care of themselves by now, but Tulie had never been so worried about Deegie in her life.
Nezzie nudged Tronie, and they both filled plates with warmed food and brought it to the Mammoth Hearth for Ayla and Deegie. Maybe things would straighten out after they had something to eat and had a chance to tell their story.
Everyone had held off asking about the wolf pup until the necessities of warmth and food for the young women, and the little wolf, had been attended to. Though she had been hungry, Ayla found it hard now to put food in her mouth. She kept looking in the direction Jondalar had gone. Everyone else seemed to find their way to the Mammoth Hearth, anticipating the story of an exciting and unusual adventure, which could be told and retold. Whether she was in the mood or not, they all wanted to know the story of how she arrived back at the lodge with a baby wolf.
Deegie began by relating the strange circumstances of the white foxes in the snares. She was quite certain now that it was the black wolf, weakened and hungry, and unable to hunt deer or horse or bison alone, that had been driven to taking the foxes from the traps for food. Ayla suggested that the black might have followed Deegie’s trail from trap to trap when she set them. Then Deegie told of Ayla wanting white fur to make something for someone, but not white fox fur this time, and tracking the ermine.
Jondalar arrived after the storytelling began, and was trying to remain quietly unnoticed sitting near the far wall. He was already sorry and berating himself for leaving so hastily, but he felt the blood drain from his face when he heard Deegie’s remark. If Ayla was making something with white fur for someone, and did not want winter fox, it must be because she had already given that someone white winter fox. And he knew to whom she had given white fox furs at her adoption ceremony. Jondalar closed his eyes and clenched his fists in his lap. He didn’t even want to think it, but he couldn’t keep the thoughts from his mind. Ayla must be making something for the dark man who looked so stunning in white fur; for Ranec.
Ranec wondered, too, who the someone was. He suspected it was Jondalar, but he hoped it might be someone else, maybe even him. It gave him an idea, though. Whether she was making something for him or not, he could still make something for her. He recalled her excitement and delight over the carved horse he had given her, and grew warm at the thought of carving