At the end of the curb Tau reaches back and feels the soft skin of Hartley’s underbelly where his shirt was torn open. Hartley holds the shirt closed, but releases and takes Tau’s hand instead, stepping up beside him. In the distance they hear a cacophony of noise—baying hounds, grizzly cries, a cougar’s roar. The prey is silent, hiding, while the predators call into the darkness like hungry guests in a restaurant, each voice rising louder than the next to snag the waiter’s attention. When Hartley shudders and moves a step closer to Tau, the lion wraps a protective arm across the buck’s trembling shoulders. “Almost there. It’s just up ahead, right?”