It was when the time of cold was only a few degrees away that Xen felt the heavy vibration which nearly made him dissolve with fear. It lasted for a few degrees and then weakened and made only a small tremor. Now many smaller vibrations reached him, like many creatures moving about. The tremors spread out, moving slowly toward the rocky valley.
Xen lay still trying to identify the vibrations. They were not those of Stings. As they approached, he recognized them as resembling in great numbers the creature he had put upon the rock.
Curt imagined he heard voices, an incoherent babble of them. He struggled to sit up, but there was an incredible weight on his chest.
"Lie still," a voice said clearly, and his mind echoed, "Still ... still ... still...."
He struggled again. "Liquid," he croaked painfully, "liquid animal ... liquid...." The weight was still there. He heard one last voice say, "Poor guy, he must have run into scorpions."
Then he was lifted and it seemed as though the lifting would never cease.
Xen waited until the small tremor was gone and the great vibration had roared and disappeared. He knew by the sense of emptiness that the Sting-killer had gone back to his own kind. For a moment he felt very alone, though he knew the sand was full of Xens.