Hume went down on one knee, examined the ground growth, gingerly lifted the lace of vertebrae forming a spine. That ended in a crushed break which he studied briefly before he laid the bones gently back into the concealing cover of the mossy stuff.
"That was done by teeth!"
The cup of green valley had not changed, it was the same as it had been when they had emerged from the crevice. But now every clump of trees, every wind-rippled mound of brush promised cover.
Vye moistened his lips, diverted his eyes from the skull.
"Weathered," Hume said slowly, "must have been here for seasons, maybe planet years."
"A survivor from the L-B?" Yet this spot lay days of travel from that clearing back in the plains.
"Probably the same way we would have, had we not holed up on that river island."
Driven! Perhaps the lone human on Jumala herded up into this dead-end valley by the globes or the blue beasts. "This process must have been in action for some time."
"Why?"