Neither of them was afraid, yet in that cavernous silence their comradeship was born anew, and in it there was something now that crept down into their wild little souls and filled the emptiness that was left by the death of Neewa's mother and the loss of Miki's master.

The pup whined gently, and in his throat Neewa made a purring sound and followed it with a squeaky grunt that was like the grunt of a little pig.

They edged nearer, and stood shoulder to shoulder facing their world.

They went on after a little, like two children exploring the mystery of an old and abandoned house.

They were not hunting, yet every hunting instinct in their bodies was awake, and they stopped frequently to peer about them, and listen, and scent the air.
To Neewa it all brought back a memory of the black cavern in which he was born.