His small eyes beneath his thick brows went back to their burning contemplation of the figures approaching.
Merena was not quite so coarse featured as Kogar. She had long, tangled black hair that fell almost to her waist. Her nose was not so flat as Kogar's, her lips not so thick. But her black eyes gleamed with the same furious intensity, the same fierce gnawing hunger, as her mate's.
For three star-skies it had been this way. No food. No raw flesh to fill the belly. There had been a small winged sky creature, that last time. Kogar had brought it down with a stone well aimed. But it had been small, too small to satisfy completely the burning hunger that gripped them both. And there had been scant blood to drink.
Merena found it hard to remember that there had once been a few four-footed animals to feast on. They were gone now, along with the last of the winged sky creatures. She swallowed hungrily.
Kogar picked up the sharpened stone by his side. In his great paw he held it ready, his eyes estimating the distance from their boulder to the creatures moving toward them. Too far yet.
It didn't occur to Kogar that these creatures might be even as himself and Merena. Their bodies were covered by strange trappings, their legs encased in odd sheaths. Truly these were not of their kind. Kogar's thick left paw gently stroked the bulging muscle beneath the thick mat of hair on his right arm. No, they were not as Merena and Kogar.
Kogar knew that there were no others such as himself and Merena. Once there had been. But they were gone now—along with the four-footed animals and the sky creatures. They had been few enough to begin with, and their numbers decreased until there were finally but himself and his mate. The others had not been cunning enough to keep their bellies filled, their thirsts quenched.
Still watching the approach of the strange creatures, Kogar thought back to that day in the compounds when the feeble old Chief lay dying. All around them, that day, women and children had lain white and sick and bloated. They were dying too. Kogar had gone to Merena. He had slipped from the compounds with her that night.
"We will leave these weaklings, and go forth to find meat for ourselves," he had told her.
And they had. Scouring far and wide, farther even than the old tribal laws had permitted. Kogar took his mate in search of flesh to sustain life. That had been countless star-skies ago. Kogar could not remember how long. He knew, of course, that the others were dead by now. They had been foolish, and weak.
"See, Kogar," Merena whispered, "the strange creatures halt!"
KOGAR, jolted from his musings, turned his attention back to the strange creatures. They had stopped, several hundred paces away, and were making sounds at each other. They looked like animals quarreling.
For an instant, Kogar looked at the sharpened stone in his big hand. He lifted it once or twice doubtfully. A throw might bring one of them down. But if he missed, it would frighten them away. He wet his thick lips.
Merena put her hand on his arm.
"Wait," she breathed, "do not frighten them."
Kogar nodded. For an instant he considered moving out from behind his hiding place and chasing down after
