The females chattered, swiftly slipping their soft white bodies into long pale garments that covered all but hands and faces—and the night ape was again struck by a scent that caused his muscles to spasm, and coaxed a feral light into his eyes.
After setting their many garments aside, the brown-haired female came close to the window, and the amber light disappeared to be replaced by darkness. The far wall suddenly glowed dimly, and Gazda’s sharp eyes saw veiled shapes beyond.
But how the female had caused the light to disappear, he did not know, for her close scent had blinded Gazda to her actions.
Desirous like the music he had heard, and like the blood in their veins, a scent yet drifted through the window as the females slid beneath fine sheets to cuddle in the dark upon their bed.
He smelled their blood, and from that distance felt their quivering hearts against his skin, but there was more. These females were aroused. Were they preparing to mate?
The night ape could see their bodies intertwining beneath the cloth, but they were not mating. Instead, they whispered in the dark, but nothing more.
Gazda could not understand. The females of his tribe were mated to Goro and to other blackbacks in the hierarchy, and Gazda remembered times when he had smelled arousal, and with young Ooso would watch adults couple and wonder why.
In their youth, Ooso had suggested mating games, and Gazda had complied to mimic the actions of a blackback, but he had never been drawn into the activity—and so their childish pairings were little more than frisky horseplay.
As it had remained when Gazda grew into adulthood.
Other she-apes had offered themselves, but he had not been drawn to them. They had been attracted to his strength, and hunting prowess, and were excited by his strange appearance.
And while Gazda had desired their rich blood, he had not been drawn to them as he was to these females now.
In the dark with the other night apes close he wanted something more than the blood. Their arousal affected him in such a way that his body pulsed and quivered. Every organ and muscle swelled and throbbed with a life of its own.
Panting, Gazda stared into the darkness of the tree-nest, breathing in the potent air that caused his heady passion to grow. He felt the way he did when tasting blood, but there was more.
Gazda licked his lips.
As the females sank into their slumber, their breathing slowed, and upon that languid whispering cycle did his lust for them rise and to him it felt like...
...music. It was like music! But what music?
He sank back on his haunches.
If these were night apes of his kind, indeed, he would wish to join their tribe, and yet, all he felt was desire for the females. He yearned for their voices, their music—their soft flesh and sweet blood—and he wished to press his heart against theirs, to hold them and turn with them to their music.
He heard the soft rustle of their rising breasts against the bedclothes.
Movement caught his eye! The distant shadow by the black grove was coming forth again upon the fog.
And a faint blue glow accompanied it that was no reflected star. There was within the murk a flickering, upright shape haunted by floating motes of green.
As the black fog crept toward Gazda.
From the glimmering shape came a reverberant sound much like the music he had heard; but this song caused his passion to distend and grow, while beneath a low note throbbed in time with the sleeping female hearts!
“No!” Yearning made Gazda’s voice a growl. Yearning that tingled in his every cell, and caused his throat to heat, and tongue to swell.
With his tormented face a twisted mask, the night ape sprinted from the flickering shadow until the dense jungle closed about him to hide his streaming tears.
The black fog followed.
CHAPTER 9 – Passion and Pulse
The night ape had returned to the trees on the northern side of the clearing. He sat on a stout branch while the black fog settled over the jungle floor beneath him where it rose around the trunks to a foot in depth.
It had “settled” though its murky surface rippled with scintillant blue, shifting in variegated waves that undulated close to Gazda’s hanging feet. There at intervals it raised misty tendrils to caress his naked legs.
Absent was the glimmering upright shape and flickering motes. They had gone dull and sunk into the foggy depths. Gazda had searched the surface for some sign, before welcoming the quiet they had left him.
Though his passion remained.
When the night ape closed his eyes he saw the smooth white skin of the females as they disrobed. Like a compulsion it was, an irresistible curiosity that he relived again and again—while somehow knowing the memory alone would never be enough.
The females were like their music. Their scent and shape was a potent force that thrummed along his nerves like...music...even still.
But where had they come from?
There was little doubt that the males were of Fur-nose’s tribe, appearing much more like the dead creature than Gazda. Their clothing was similar, and one had fur around his nose.
The females shared similarities like hairless skin, though the night ape felt certain theirs would be softer.
In strength, he did not know their character. The males appeared to possess thunder-hands which were said by the apes to be dangerous or lethal, and these strangers had some small mastery of flame and light.
But nothing else had been evident to hint at physical power other than their size which was close to his own.
Gazda brushed his fingertips upon his naked lips. If he were as many times stronger than the invaders as he was to the bone-faces, then that suggested they were born of a different tribe.
The look and shape of the females suggested he could win a mate from among
