Gordon R Dickson - Sleepwalkers' World - Plot & Excerpts
But the branch dipped under him at the movement, and without visibly setting himself for the effort, the wolf shot into the air toward him. Rafe jerked his dangling feet up level with the branch, and white teeth clicked shut only inches below them as the branch lifted again. Rafe clung to it, not moving. Slowed by the broadcast power as he was, he had no intention of taking his chances on the ground with a beast like the one below. There had to be other ways of handling this situation than fencing a timber wolf with his bare hands. Lucas was still singing below him in a wavering combination of growl and whine. Feet hooked on the branch now, Rafe leaned forward a little—the branch trembled beneath him—and spoke to the wolf. “Lucas,” he said. “I’m here to see someone you know. Gabrielle. Can Gabrielle hear me if I talk to you?” The growling whine broke off for a moment, then picked up again. “Gabrielle?” said Rafe, raising his voice slightly. “This is Rafe Harald. I talked to you on the phone yesterday—or maybe it was the day before yesterday, now—from the Moon, about Ab.
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