Zonaton Read Online Free PDF Page B

remember these creatures are not human. Do not always assume they have human tendencies. There is also the possibility that they do not care about the villages or the inhabitants as long as the villagers do not get in their way.
                Again, she felt his smile, although the horned beak couldn't physically grin.
                The geron walked to the cave entrance and scanned the outside area. His two-legged stroll was stiff, his clawed hands perched on his hips. His long tail nervously whipped back and forth. In the firelight, his silvery hide gave off a reddish-yellow glow. From the back, he appeared otherworldly, a winged creature nearly twice the size of the average human male. But from the front, he was more human in appearance, like a man with an eagle's head and wings.
                Emmala remembered how her teachers often showed the class old vids of imaginary figures from ancient Earth. Dragons. Griffins. Gargoyles. Gerons were like a combination of all of those, and yet were none of those. For one thing, dragons and griffins were monsters. They weren't considered to be intelligent. Nor could they talk mentally. She read his body language as she watched him check for danger.
                "You sense something, don't you?"
                No. I do not sense anything, but I am wary. When strangers land, we are always cautious. Especially if they are ones we have dealt with in the past, and in a negative way.
                "But they're far away from us. How could they be a danger?"
                She felt his irritation. He matched it with a hooded look which he threw her way. Emmala shrugged. "Forget I asked."
                She pulled the dagger from the sheath attached to the belt around her waist and stabbed the slab of meat, cutting a slice from the end. Blowing on her dinner a few times to cool it, she carefully tore at the seared hunk with her teeth. Zonaton remained watchful by the entrance.
                Stay here. I will return shortly.
                She didn't answer. Most of the time, whenever he said he would return shortly, it was because he had to relieve himself. For herself, there was a metal pan lined with dirt sitting near the cave opening that she used because Zonaton refused to let her roam outside to potty. A few dangerous animals lived in these mountains, or scaled them to look for prey. None of them would venture where they could smell geron, but a single human alone and appearing unprotected would be too much of a temptation.
                Once she finished eating, she washed up in the thin stream of water from the small pool near the back of the cave. She also rinsed out her shirt and pants as best she could, and laid them over a nearby boulder to dry overnight. The fabric was a dull gray color, allowing her to blend seamlessly with Zonaton's shade.
                She fingered the worn tunic. She'd asked him once where he got the tops and bottoms she wore when she was growing up. Clothes that always fit a bit too big at first, and more often than not became mere rags before she actually outgrew them. He never gave her an answer, so she assumed that somewhere in one of the villages, occasionally someone would discover a set of clothing missing from the drying lines behind their home.
                These days, keeping up with her growth was no longer an issue. She'd reached womanhood some time ago, which meant the only time Zonaton had to bring her a new set was when the other was beginning to come apart at the seams.
                I'm going to need another set of clothes before too long. The ties in these pants are going to snap soon.
                There was no answer in her head, but she knew he'd heard her.
                The fire in the pit was slowly going out. Quickly, Emmala drew on one of her old sets of clothes she used now to