He crawled toward the sound, tangling hands and feet in the hair that grew so monstrously from his head, his fingernails scrabbling and clicking together like the whisperings of bare branches before a soft Winter breeze. "_I'm Kim_," he thought again, and drank with great slobbering noises from the narrow shallow stream that pierced one wall of the cave and vanished through the opposite. Thirst slaked, he lay, gasping, like some spent animal, thoughts swelling and unfolding in his mind, creeping unbidden from dark recesses, stealing into the brightness of his consciousness. "I'm Kim," he thought. "Kimball Trent." He sat, groaning from the hurt that was in every muscle, methodically broke the twisted fingernails close to his finger tips, permitting his fingers to flex more freely, giving him hands once more instead of paws. He tried to break his heavy hair and beard the same way, but his strength was not enough for that, and he searched for something that would free him of the burden. * * * * * He found the knife almost where he had waked. The plastic haft was pitted with corrosion, and there was but a scrap of the incredibly hard steel left; but with it he managed to hack away his beard and hair, leaving both less than a foot long. He felt a bit better now, some of the pain easing from his body, the tiny warm breeze slipping through the earth fault touching him and giving life to him in passing. Standing, moving with agonizing slowness, he staggered toward the source of light, clawed at the sides of the fault. Earth crumbled beneath his hands, dropped about his bare feet. He fought the imbedded rocks, pulled them free, then scratched his way out of the cave, dragging himself into the sunlight, blinking against the radiance. He lay on the velvety-smooth green grass, breathing deeply, his lean body etched with shadows as though it had received no sustenance for a long time. A redbird watched silently from the clump of green bushes at his side, then hopped fearlessly into cover again, trilling its warbling melody to the sky. A squirrel chittered inquisitively from the limb of a towering tree, then flicked out of sight with a toss of its bushy tail. The breeze was warm and soothing, and Kimball Trent slept. * * * * * He awoke to sunlight again, stretching with the uneasy flexing of an animal, then snapped to awareness with a movement that almost brought him to his feet. Pain gushed through his body in red waves, and he sank back with a stifled groan. And as though the pain had been a curtain before his brain, it parted, and he could think again. He looked around, trying to adjust his memories to what he saw. He was in timber, great leafy trees towering over his head, the grass and bushes thick and green upon the ground. He saw the huge monolithic rock directly before him, and his mind could not comprehend what had happened.