Shon'jir

Duncan looked at it, where it crouched in the corner. To have peace with Niun, he rose and nerved himself to ap­proach it. Perversely, it would have none of him, but shied off and snarled. The dark eyes glittered at him, desiring what it could not find.

"Careful.”

Niun was behind him. Duncan gave back gratefully, felt the mri's hand on his shoulder. The dus remained in its cor­ner, and it did not seem the time to attempt anything with it.

"I will try," Duncan said.

"Slowly. Let it alone for now. Let be. There is no pressing them.”

"I do not understand why it comes at me. I have tried to discourage it. Surely it understands I do not want it.”

Niun shrugged. "I have felt its disturbance. I ca

Duncan glanced at the dus, that had ceased to radiate hos­tility, and again at Niun, wondering whether he understood that in what the mri had said was an admission that he had won something.

That night, as they were settling to sleep on their pallets, Niun put away his weapons in the roll of cloth that contained all his personal possessions, and there, along with a curious knot of cord, was the ill-made figure of a dus, as if it were valued.

It pleased Duncan. He looked into the shadows at the liv­ing model that Jay some distance from him, eyes glittering in the light of the starscreen, head between its paws, looking wistfully at him.

He whistled at it softly, an appeal ancient and human.

A soft puff of air distended the beast's nostrils. The small eyes wrinkled in what looked like anguished consideration.

But it stayed at a distance.