Halting, Dumarest threw back his head and sniffed at the air.  Like a dog, thought Angado dispassionately.  Like the animal he'd become as they made their way over the endless plain.  Sniffing for scent, looking for sign, surviving where no ordinary man could have lasted.  A trait he envied while knowing he could never hope to emulate it.

He stumbled, feeling the jar in knees and hips as he fought to regain his balance.  The pack he carried was a monstrous hand pressing him down, a load full of trivia which Dumarest refused to discard.  He turned to look behind, seeing their trail wending over the rolling plain toward a featureless horizon, one which faded, vanishing, as gusting wind flurried the long grass and resettled it in a new pattern.

The trail they left was as transient as that made by a boat on an ocean.  Their progress apparently measured by inches.

He lunged forward, cursing the pull of the grass which hampered his stride and sapped at his energy.  Strength too low for the task; the scant food failing to replace that used and, now the food was gone, hunger was turning into starvation.

"Steady!"  Dumarest was at his side, a hand firm on his arm.  "Take a rest."

"But -"

"Do it!"  Dumarest softened his tone.  "Rest now and we can keep going until twilight.  Be stubborn and you'll collapse after a couple of miles."  His knife flashed as he hacked free a bunch of grass.  "Here, keep busy with this.  Something to fill your stomach."  He illustrated running a strand between his teeth to remove the husk and pulp.  "See?"

"Can we live on it?"

"No, but it'll give you bulk and some moisture."  And give him something to do as well as taking his mind off present difficulties.  Dumarest added, "There's a run over there.  The sun's low enough to shade it and with luck we'll get something to eat."

He moved off before Angado could comment, one hand delving beneath his tunic to reappear with a scrap of food concentrate wrapped in a cloth.  Sweat had soaked into the fabric, adding his own body odor to that of the ripening wafer.  Carefully he set it at the place he had noted; one where small tunnels through the grass joined to form a junction.  Snares would have created a warning scent and an unusual sight image and Dumarest didn't want to wait longer than necessary.  Taking up a position facing the sun, the wind in his face, he poised the knife in his hand and stood, waiting.

A living statue dark against the sky.  Angado watched, running strands of grass between his teeth.  The gain was small but his mouth welcomed the opportunity to chew and swallow and the moist pulp held a refreshing tartness.  More gratifying was the opportunity to rest and he eased the ache in back and legs, bones and muscles.

The pack was a nuisance.  The need of the sacs had been demonstrated; spread at night they collected condensed dew and twice the fruit of an intermittent rain.  But most of the rest was useless; clothing they would never wear, empty containers, voided ampules.... discarded rubbish... stuff which swirled in his mind and created a sudden complexity of dancing patterns.

Angado started, aware that he had dozed, fighting the sleep which clogged his mind.  The sun was lower than he remembered but the dark silhouette against the sky was as before.  Then, as he watched, Dumarest exploded in a sudden blur of motion.  A flash as the knife left his hand, a darting forward, a stoop then he was upright again and coming toward him the creature he had caught impaled on the blade of the thrown knife.