With the alert senses of one who lives in the open, Yorgh looked up before the girl came within a hundred yards.
He watched wonderingly as she plodded out of the dusk and up to his fire. The flames put copper glints in her hair, like rays of The Star on water, but her features were set in a harsh expression.
"You walked out?" asked Yorgh cautiously.
Vaneen curled her lip at him.
"Thanks to you!" she said, and the "you" was like a blow.
"Some meat?" invited Yorgh, trying not to show his hurt.
"No."
He considered. On the whole, even putting the best possible interpretation on it, he did not think he could call the girl's visit friendly.
"They didn't chase you out too, did they?" he asked mildly.
"My father sent me!" she all but spat at him. "He found me with something of yours, and nothing would do but I must get the accursed thing out of camp to fling in your face before nightfall!"