"I don't see how they can recognize each other this far apart," said Bru doubtfully. "We'd better go tell Paboss."
"He sees it." Alyar looked aft to where the leader of the smit clan perched on another hair, a good shout from Alyar's.
"You'd better come down," said Bru. "He clobbered Jorsmit for being in sight, the last time we met another beast."
"He doesn't care when we're this far away." Nevertheless, Alyar climbed down; it wasn't all comfort at the top of a hair, especially when the beast felt you and twitched. "Let's go back there. He might know who it is."
He started through the thick growth of shorter hair, and Bru followed. They moved carefully, listening; it would be nip-and-tuck if only the two of them encountered a fley. They heard a few, detoured around them, eventually reached Paboss's outpost.
The leader was down from the hair, sitting with his back against it, munching dried meat. Three spearmen with him jumped up when they heard Alyar and Bru coming, then, recognizing them, relaxed.
Pabosssmit grunted and gestured toward the joint of meat beside him. "Help yourself." He eyed Alyar keenly. "That you on the hair up forward?"