'It's all right,' Kalus panted, head down. 'This is a snow tiger. He won't need much more heat than this. It's more the mangled leg, and starvation.' He looked across at the woman-child, and perceived for the first time the dismal state into which she herself had fallen, a malady of the mind, which had then spread to the body.
He felt ashamed, and frightened, and glad all at once. He was needed, and his desire to live had somehow returned from its shallow grave, embodied in the weakened, but far from dead creature at his feet.
And his own body, he knew from deepest instinct, was not yet ready to surrender. On the contrary, it had made a small recovery. The two-day fast and stubborn, death-like sleep had emptied his throbbing intestines, and given his natural defenses time to adapt and regain some measure of their innate strength. He was still very sick, but maybe now…..
The words, 'Forgive me,' played upon his lips but had an empty, useless feel. He went to the door, closed it, and though cold and aching he said to her. 'Please don't lose hope. I'm going to make it all right for us, somehow. Some way. You stood by me these past days, and I….. You are a woman. I will earn your trust, and repay my debt in full. I am yours.'
He embraced her and asked her to lie down in his bed. He then wrapped the buffalo robe around him, tended the fire, and brought her food and water. 'Sleep,' he told her. 'In comfort and in peace. I feel a little stronger, but I will do nothing foolish. I must tend the tiger's wounds, and if Akar returns with meat, feed us both. Then you and I will sleep together. I love you. Be well in your heart.' He shook off all emotions of weakness and sorrow, and set out to do what must be done.
Akar returned a short time later. After studying the tiger uncertainly, and looking hard at Kalus, he set down his burden, part of a kill stolen from a badger. It was not much to look at, but from it Kalus was able to carve and cook a pound or two of meat. He divided portions for all the company, then placed the remainder in a bowl, along with the cooked blood, beside the big cat, still unconscious. He then cleaned, repaired and wrapped its wounds as best he could, laying it more comfortably on the floor. He knew that in taking it among them, and especially in binding one of its limbs, he risked confusing and provoking a creature capable of doing them great harm. But he had an unspoken faith that it was not yet old and hard enough to hate without reason, or to see as enemies all those unlike itself.
Not wishing to squander the unexpected turn of his fortunes, or the quiet courage that had risen inside him, he lay down without further exposure beside the girl, wrapping the furs thickly around them both. Waking, she said in a soft and pleading voice.
'Don't leave me here. Please don't ever leave me.' He answered without words, holding her close and caressing her tear-stained hair.
Again they had found each other, and Kalus knew that in their bond lay the one real hope of his survival. She made him want to live.