The tall blonde woman was an oddity among the nearly two hundred and fifty Clan people from ten clans that had gathered together. She was noticed wherever she went, and her every action scrutinized. As abnormal as she appeared, no one could detect any deviation in her behavior. Ayla was extremely careful to make sure no one would. She displayed none of the peculiar characteristics that still slipped out in the more relaxed atmosphere of their own cave. She didn’t laugh, or even smile. No tears wet her eyes. No long strides or free-swinging arm movements betrayed her unwomanly inclinations. She was a paragon of Clan virtue, an exemplary young matron—and no one noticed. No one, outside her clan, ever knew a woman who acted any other way. But it made her presence acceptable, and, as Uba predicted, they got used to her. There were too many other activities at a meeting of the clans for the novelty of one strange woman to hold their attention for long. It wasn’t easy to maintain such a large aggregation within the close confines of the cave environment for an extended period of time.
