“I make ripples in the woods like a paddle in a clear green lake. A hundred small scuffles and crackles tell of the prey-animals’ noting my presence. Most of ’em don’t care.

“Far to the west, some minor predator is jumping at grouse and cursing his luck.

“Beyond him, a small herd of angu pick up their ambling pace a bit, a wave breaking in front of a big predator. A laeske, maybe, or eidectus.

“Closer to me a flock of ground-running hawks veers north-northwest, sending innumerable smaller creatures diving for cover.

“Their squawks and complaints travel out from the point of disturbance, taken up and telegraphed by many others.

“The soughing wind in the trees carries all this news and gossip.

“But there is something big out here besides Shantytown. If the animals ripple a bit to avoid me, whatever’s around the perimeter to the north must be quite a sandbar–“