Suddenly she realized how tired she was, and hungry, and her clothes were still damp from the snow. She took off wet boots, and the lining made of felted mammoth wool, and changed into one of her dry outfits and the soft indoor footwear Talut had shown her how to make. She had been intrigued by the pair he had worn at her adoption ceremony, and prevailed upon him to show her how they were made.

They were based on a natural characteristic of elk or deer: the hind leg bends so sharply at the gambrel joint it conforms to the natural shape of a human foot. The skin was cut above and below the joint and taken off in one piece. After curing, the lower end was then sewn with sinew to the desired size, and the upper part wrapped and laced above the ankle with cords or thongs. The result was a seamless, warm, and comfortable leather stocking-shoe.

After she changed, Ayla went into the annex to check on the horses, and reassure them, but she noticed a hesitation and a resistance from the mare when she went to pet her.

"You smell the wolf, don't you, Whinney? You will have to get used to it. Both of you. The wolf is going to be here with us, for a while." She held out her hands and let both horses sniff them. Racer backed off, snorted and tossed his head, and sniffed again. Whinney put her muzzle into the woman's hands, but her ears flattened back and she bobbed indecisively. "You got used to Baby, Whinney, you can get used to Wolf. I'll bring him out here tomorrow, when he wakes up. When you see how little he is, you will know he can't hurt you."

When Ayla went back in, she saw Jondalar by the bed looking at the wolf puppy. His expression was unreadable, but she thought she saw curiosity and something like tenderness in his eyes. He looked up and saw her, and his forehead furrowed in a familiar way.

"Ayla, why did you stay out so long?" he said. "Everyone was getting ready to search for you."

"We didn't plan to, but once I saw that the black wolf I killed was nursing, I had to see if I could find her pups," Ayla said.

"What difference did it make? Wolves die all the time, Ayla!" He had started out talking to her in a reasonable tone, but his fear for her safety was putting an edge on his voice. "It was stupid to go tracking after a wolf like that. If you had found a wolf pack, they could have killed you." Jondalar had been beside himself with worry, but with relief came uncertainty, and a touch of frustrated anger.

"It made a difference to me, Jondalar," she flared, jumping to the defense of the wolf. "And I am not stupid. I hunted meat eaters before I hunted anything else. I know wolves. If there had been a pack, I would not have backtracked to her den. The pack would have taken care of her pups."

"Even if she was a lone wolf, why did you spend all day chasing after a wolf puppy?" Jondalar's voice had gotten louder. He was releasing his own tensions as well as trying to convince her not to take such chances again.

"That puppy was all that mother wolf ever had. I could not let him starve because I killed his mother. If someone hadn't cared about me when I was young, I would not be alive. I have to care, too, even for a wolf puppy." Ayla's voice had risen, too.

"It's not the same. A wolf is an animal. You should have better sense, Ayla, than to threaten your own life for the sake of a wolf puppy," Jondalar shouted. He couldn't seem to make her understand. "This is not the kind of weather to be out in all day."

"I have good sense, Jondalar," Ayla said with anger flashing in her eyes. "I was the one who was out. Don't you think I know what the weather was like? Don't you think I know when my life is in danger? I took care of myself before you came, and faced far worse dangers. I even took care of you. I don't need you to tell me I am stupid and don't have sense."

People who were gathering at the Mammoth Hearth were reacting to the quarrel, smiling nervously and trying to make less of it. Jondalar glanced around and noticed several people smiling and talking among themselves, but the one who stood out was the dark man with the flashing eyes. Was there a hint of condescension in his broad smile?

"You're right, Ayla. You don't need me, do you? For anything." Jondalar spat, then seeing Talut approaching, he asked, "Would you mind if I moved to the cooking hearth, Talut? I'll try to stay out of everyone's way."

"No, of course I don't mind, but…"

"Good. Thank you," he said, and grabbed his bedding and belongings from the bed platform he shared with Ayla.

Ayla was stricken, beside herself to think he might really want to sleep away from her. She was almost ready to beg him not to leave, but her pride held her tongue. He had shared her bed, but they hadn't shared Pleasures in so long she was sure he had stopped loving her. If he didn't love her any more, she would not try to force him to stay, though the thought of it wrenched her stomach into a knot of fear and grief.

"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.