The recognition came with a certain sense of pride at first, and stimulated his curiosity, but as she continued to speak, he began to feel unsettled as the words formed larger pictures.
There were things he knew—trees, the great blue water and animals—but other images appeared that terrified him for he could not understand what they were.
Structures, forms and tools he saw, and like in his dreams there were other night apes and odd creatures, and great stone caves on cliffs. There were feelings also, about these things he did not understand. He felt sadness, and joy, loneliness and an ache in his heart that was like hunger but not for food.
More emotion came to Gazda that reminded him of his lair, the alien objects there, and the memory of the strange dark trees. Blue lights had flickered among the bloated tree trunks. The black fog had drifted out and crossed to where he had beckoned to Lilly—it had clung to her naked legs as he drew her garments aside.
Barking a warning then, Gazda looked to either side of the branch, peering down through the leaves. Was there a shadow far below? Had the ground grown darker behind the leaves?
If the fog had returned was it here for this female and for Gazda?
He remembered Lilly’s white breasts, and her long soft neck. He thought of his blood spurting into her mouth, and below him—yes—there! He recognized the first dark tendril of black mist creeping up out of the ground and feeling along the very tree trunk on which he perched with this female!
Gazda growled and snapped his fangs at the murk, and the brown-haired female cried out, crawling into her shelter where she turned back to him with both hands pressed against her mouth.
He had frightened her and realizing this, the night ape panted hoarsely holding both hands out before him with palms down, the way he had learned from Harkon, and he lowered them slowly.
The woman was silent watching this, and as her breathing slowed, she reached out to copy the gesture.
Gazda hooted and shook his head. A glance below had shown him that the black fog was gone, if it had ever been there at all.
Smiling as the female smiled, the night ape rolled onto his knees. He drew himself upright and set both large hands upon his muscular breast saying: “Gazda.”
The female grinned, creeping forward to sit in the shelter opening.
She pointed at him saying, “Gazda?”
The night ape panted with mouth wide, and shaking his head up and down, he repeated: “Gazda.”
Virginia could see that her wild man was trying to communicate, and she repeated what she assumed was his name. This he approved of whole-heartedly, smiling broadly and slapping the bark on the branch before him.
Then he went quiet, settling back on his haunches to watch her expectantly, the unspoken question obvious.
“Virginia,” she answered, with her right hand pressed over her heart. She was relieved that he had calmed down after his initial outburst. He had seen something in the jungle below them, and she shuddered to think what might have upset this wild man so.
Gazda’s eyes rolled up and his slanted eyebrows rose. He grunted something in his own language, tapping his closed mouth like he was puzzling over how he might say this.
“Virginia,” she repeated, patting her chest.
Gazda nodded, pointing at her before he said: “Vidge, Vidga—Ah—Ver-jin!”
Virginia blushed and clapped her hands, pleased with the fellow’s intellect though she could tell his rough history had not prepared him for the convolutions of her name.
“Ginny!” she said, smiling and tapping her chest again. “Friends call me ‘Ginny.’ Ginny.”
The wild man opened his mouth to pant happily as he leaned forward and reached out to touch her left shoulder.
“Ginny,” he said, his eyes looking deeply into hers. “Ginny.”
“Pleased to meet you, Gazda,” Virginia said, cheekily grabbing his steely hand and shaking it. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Pleeze-choo-mee-too,” Gazda said, and hooted as he flapped his free hand, eyes widening with humor, as the other pressed her palm. Then a serious look came upon him and he brushed the back of her clasped hand with his knuckles. “Ginny!”
“But who are you?” Virginia asked, boldly reaching out to lift the medallion from where it dangled between his muscular breasts. He grunted quietly over its taut chain, and a look of concern lowered his brow and pursed his lips.
She turned the pendant in her fingers. A serpent was etched upon the metal disk, inside the margin was the faint line of its stylized body and a cross—but there was no writing or mark that she could decipher.
“What is this?” she asked, as the wild man took it back to crouch with it in his hand. Then he made undulating motions with his forearm while hissing repeatedly.
“A snake?” Virginia blurted and Gazda nodded uncertainly. His eyes grew suddenly intense, flashing crimson in the angled light as they studied hers.
She trembled beneath this piercing gaze—feeling exposed and exhilarated—for it seemed to her that he could see her deepest thoughts.
Soon after this exchange, Gazda signaled to her that he was hungry or that he would acquire food for them, and he leapt from the branch to a nearby vine where he swept away without another word.
Virginia was amazed at how quickly he had picked up some simple phrases, and she began to suspect he might be a castaway from a civilized land who had contracted amnesia through some mental trauma or injury, or had perhaps gone native due to the extremity of these savage lands, and in the process forgot the social niceties that would not aid his survival.
Whatever the truth, it was clear that he was intelligent but had been long away from civilization.
He certainly struggled with it. There were moments when it seemed as though some thought would pass through his mind and his countenance would revert to savagery as an animalistic expression twisted his fine features.
Yet, that could not erase
