He heard breath being drawn through huge nostrils. Long, slow breaths of a creature whose chest took a long time to fill with air. He heard a grunting, low and determined.
The grunting changed to a rumbling growl that made the floor of the cave tremble beneath him.
Gray Cloud's breath came in gasps. He wanted to leap up and run, but Owl Carver had said it was forbidden to move once he seated himself in the cave. Only his spirit was permitted to move.
Perhaps if he did everything exactly as Owl Carver had told him, he would be safe. But Owl Carver had not told him to expect such a thing as this.
He must not look up.
The scratching of those giant claws was right behind him now. He could not breathe at all. There was a bright light all around him, and yet he could not see anything.
He felt—
A heavy hand—no, paw!—weighing down on his shoulder and gripping it.
He did not willingly turn his head, but his head turned. He did not mean to lift his gaze, but his eyes looked up.
He saw something like a vast white tree trunk beside his head. It was covered with white fur. Claws gleamed on his shoulder.