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farther. Wolf had to make sure that the dogs didn't find him.
Grunt-whining softly, he nudged his pack-brother under the chin. I'm sorry, I must leave. Don't follow. Then he was out of the Den, racing down the slope.
He flew over the rocks and splashed through the Fast Wet, thrusting it aside with his big paws. Scrambling up the bank, he shook himself dry and set off again. It was good to run freely, without waiting for Tall Tailless, and he felt no fear of the dogs. Compared to a wolf, dogs are like cubs.
     
As he ran, he noticed things in the Forest that troubled him. A viper gliding up-Wet with her head held high. An owl feather caught in bracken. An oak tree whispering secrets to its vast and ancient pack. It reminded him of the bad taillesses who'd kept him tied up in the tiny stone Den.
    "Where! Where!" yelped the dogs.
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Wolf forgot the bad taillesses and slowed to a walk.
    He reached the valley bottom, and a tangle of scent trails. Through the trees, he saw the young male from the boar pack, clutching a great claw in his forepaw and stinking of blood-hunger. In the other paw he held a scrap of silver hide which smelled of fish-dog and Tall Tailless. Wolf recognized this as a scrap of Tall Tailless's old over-pelt.
    One of the dogs sniffed the silver pelt to remind herself of the scent.
Now Wolf understood. The pelt was helping the dogs find his pack-brother. He must take it. Then they would chase him, and he would lead them away from Tall Tailless. Wolf's claws tightened with excitement. He felt the power in his shoulders and haunches, and knew with a fierce joy that he could lope faster than the fastest dog. Placing his pads with care, he crept forward.
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FIVE
A smell of earth and decay clogged Torak's nostrils. The cramped little cave reminded him of the Raven bone-grounds.
     
Don't think about that. Think about staying alive. The clamor of dogs had faded. Whatever Wolf had done, it seemed to have worked; but Torak wished he would return. He told himself that Wolf would find him when he was ready.
    Forcing his stiff legs to move, he crawled out and started up the slope. The rocks were slippery with rain. He kept his boots off till his feet grew numb. His plan had been to set a false trail north from the 48
Raven camp, then double back and make for the valleys to the south, where he'd lived with Fa. Instead, Aki had forced him into a huge loop up and down the Green River. He was now somewhere on Broken Ridge, not far from where he'd found the red deer antlers.
    His sides ached, and on his forehead the new tattoo throbbed. He found a willow tree, muttered a quick apology, and peeled off a slip of bast. Having chewed it, he smeared the stinging pulp on the wound; then he cut a strip of buckskin from his jerkin and tied it around as a headband. It would keep the medicine in place, and hide the outcast tattoo.
With a jolt, he remembered that he'd used the same medicine on the night Fa was killed. For a moment, it seemed as if everything that had happened since-- finding Wolf, meeting Renn and Fin-Kedinn--as if none of that had been teal. Here he was alone again, and on the run.
     
Before him the ground fell away into dense woods of oak, beech, and pine. He caught the distant glint of the Axehandle. Many canoes plied its course, especially during the salmon run. He must stay well back from its banks.
    Keeping to deep cover, he began the descent through willowherb and waist-high bracken. He was light-headed with hunger, but he had no food, no axe, 49
and only three arrows. Somehow he had to eat before he got too weak to run. Somehow he had to find a hidden valley where he could survive on his own. Somehow he had to get rid of the mark of the Soul-Eater and force the clans to take him back....
     
The task was too huge. He'd never do it.
     
Then he remembered something Fin-Kedinn had said the previous moon, when they were gathering bark to make a fishing net. It had been a bitter day like this one, and Torak had