the time being, for some reason, to do no more than keep me within its range. I had been unaware of its presence. I was unclear as to why, if it were about, it had not attacked. And, in following me, the smaller beast had strayed into the range of the larger beast. The panther, like the sleen, is highly territorial. The defense of territory selects for size, power, and ferocity. The Ubarship of a territory is not easily won, nor easily maintained. Territory, obviously, contains game for harvesting. If carnivores such as the panther and sleen were permissibly gregarious, the game within a territory would be soon depleted, and starvation would ensue. Larls may pride but they usually frequent, as well, areas where game is abundant, and the prides themselves can be competitive. Larls, as noted, do not frequent the northern forests. It would not be practical for them to do so. Claiming and maintaining a territory can also figure in successful mating, as females of various species will seek out territory masters, and present themselves, wooing and seducing, for acceptance or rejection. Males without well-established territories often remain unmated. In this sense, in several species, the primary competition seems not so much directly for mates, as for food, and survival, for the achievement of territory, a consequence of which is likely to be access to one or more females, depending on the species.
The first beast then roared, again, terribly.
I supposed these threatening displays were intended to be intimidating. Surely they seem so. The hair on my forearms and on the back of my neck rose. It is clearly in the interest of the territory master, wherever possible, to avoid combat. If it can bring about the backing down, or withdrawal, of a challenger, frightening the challenger, convincing the challenger that the challenge is ill-advised, the territory master survives unscathed, and the challenger, as well, who may then try elsewhere, perhaps with better fortune. If combat actually occurs, as it might, one or both animals may be killed, and, if not, both may be weakened, bled, and impaired, with the consequence that the territory master is more vulnerable and the challenger is less well equipped to initiate a new challenge elsewhere.
Despite the fearful roar of the larger beast, the smaller animal did not retreat, but, rather, came into view, fully, parting the grass, moving through it, and, to my uneasiness, came about me, not taking its eyes from those of the larger beast, and crouched down, tail lashing, growling, between the larger beast and myself.
Then, to my further bewilderment, and trepidation, the larger beast moved about me, so that, now, it was behind my position, between me and the forest, and the smaller beast now placed itself between me and the river. Any thought that I might have had of reaching the river or slipping back into the forest, eluding the beasts as they concerned themselves with one another, was gone. They then began, each threatening and snarling, again and again, regarding one another, to traverse the perimeter of the circle in which I found myself the reluctant, trembling center.
I stood there, watching, moving as little as possible.
I could not understand why the smaller animal did not make away. I thought it no match for the larger beast. Then, sick, I thought I understood. Even a small sleen, I knew, will defend its food dish in the face of a larger animal. There are many animals, even animals commonly loyal, and friendly, between whom and their food it would be unwise, even dangerous, to place oneself. One does not attempt to remove a haunch of tarsk from even a pet sleen, once it has been given to him. It is then his. Few animals will surrender their food to another. Nature has apparently not favored that behavior.
I suspected the smaller animal, though it was certainly large enough, and fearsome enough, had been with me since yesterday, when I had fled the camp of Genserich. If it had kept itself with me, as a subtle, lengthy, softly treading, breathing shadow, always nearby, there must have been a reason. The likely reason then became disturbingly clear to me. The panther, the sleen, the larl, seldom feed daily. Indeed, they may go days between meals. The smaller beast, I suspected, for some reason, was saving me. It had not yet been ready to feed.
Suddenly the larger beast, as though some spring in that great body had been released, charged, scrambling, through the