The Land of Painted Caves by Jean M. Auel

introduced. He had watched her greet the leader of the Seventh Cave and he had come to expect to be presented to any stranger that she greeted in that way.
    “I also want to thank you for allowing me to bring Wolf. He’s always unhappy if he can’t be near me, and now he feels that way about Jonayla, since he loves children so much,” Ayla said.
    “That wolf loves children?” Sergenor said.
    “Wolf didn’t grow up with other wolves, he was raised with the Mamutoi children of the Lion Camp and thinks of people as his pack, and all wolves love the young of their packs,” Ayla said. “He saw me greet you and now he expects to meet you. He has learned to accept anyone that I introduce him to.”
    Sergenor frowned. “How do you introduce a wolf?” he said. He glanced at Kimeran and saw him grinning.
    The younger man was remembering his introduction to Wolf, and though he might still be somewhat nervous around the carnivore, he was rather enjoying the older man’s discomfiture.
    Ayla signaled Wolf to come forward and knelt down to put her arm around him, then reached for Sergenor’s hand. He jerked it back.
    “He only needs to smell it,” Ayla said, “so he becomes familiar with you. It’s the way wolves meet each other.”
    “Did you do this, Kimeran?” Sergenor said, noticing that most of his Cave and their visitors were watching.
    “Yes, in fact I did. Last summer, when they went to the Third Cave to hunt before the Summer Meeting. Afterward, whenever I saw the wolf at the Meeting, I had the feeling that he recognized me, though he ignored me,” Kimeran said.
    He didn’t really want to, but with all the people watching, Sergenor was feeling pressed to comply. He didn’t want anyone to think that he was afraid to do what the younger leader had already done. Slowly, tentatively, he stretched out his hand toward the animal. Ayla took it and brought it to the animal’s nose. Wolf wrinkled his nose and, with his mouth closed, bared his teeth so that his large carnassial shearing teeth showed, in what Jondalar always thought of as his feeling-full-of-himself grin. But that wasn’t how Sergenor saw it. Ayla could feel him shaking, and noticed the sour smell of his fear. She knew Wolf did, too.
    “Wolf won’t hurt you, I promise,” Ayla said softly, under her breath. Sergenor gritted his teeth, forcing himself to hold steady while the wolf brought his tooth-filled mouth close to his hand. Wolf sniffed, then licked.
    “What’s he doing?” Sergenor said. “Trying to see what I taste like?”
    “No, I think he’s trying to calm you, like he would a puppy. Here, touch his head.” She moved his hand away from the sharp teeth, and was speaking in a soothing voice. “Have you ever felt the fur of a living wolf? Do you notice that behind his ears and around his neck, the fur is a little thicker and rougher? He likes being rubbed behind his ears.” When she finally let go, the man moved his hand away and held it in his other hand.
    “Now he will recognize you,” she said. She had never seen anyone so afraid of Wolf, or more brave in overcoming his fear. “Have you ever had any experience with wolves before?” she asked.
    “Once, when I was very young, I was bitten by a wolf. I don’t really remember, my mother told me about it, but I still have the scars,” Sergenor said.
    “That means the Wolf spirit chose you. The Wolf is your totem. That’s what the people who raised me would say.” She knew totems were not viewed the same way by the Zelandonii as they were by the Clan. Not everyone had one, but they were considered lucky by those who did. “I was clawed by a cave lion when I was young, when I could count perhaps five years. I still have the scars to show for it, and I still dream about it sometimes. It is not easy to live with a powerful totem like a Lion or a Wolf, but my totem has helped me, taught me many things,” Ayla said.
    Sergenor was intrigued, almost in spite of himself. “What did