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Richard glanced toward the little gar to see it was still eating。 How it had managed to follow him through the Valley of the Lost； he couldn’t imagine。 He had thought it was a mistake to keep feeding it before they reached the valley； but he felt responsible for it。 Every night when he had taken his watch； it had e to him； and he had hunted food for it。 He had thought he had seen the last of it when they crossed over into the Old World； but somehow； it had followed。
The little gar was passionately devoted to him when he was on watch。 It ate with him； played with him； and slept at his feet； if not on them。 When his watch was over； it hardly made a fuss about him leaving。 Richard never once saw the gar at any other time。 It seemed to instinctively know to stay away from the Sister； to avoid letting her see it。 Richard was reasonably certain she would try to kill it。 Maybe the gar knew that。
He was continually surprised by the intelligence of the furry little beast。 It learned faster than any animal he had ever seen。 Kahlan had told him that short…tailed gars were smart。 Now he knew how right she was。
He had only to show it something once or twice to make it understand。 It was learning to understand his words； and tried to imitate them； although it didn’t seem to have the capacity for speech。 Some of its sounds came strangely close。
Richard didn’t know what to do about the gar。 He thought perhaps it should strike out on its own； learn to hunt and survive； but it wouldn’t leave； it followed； out of sight； wherever they went； even through danger。 Perhaps it was too young to get by on its own。 Maybe it saw Richard as its only way to survive。 Maybe it saw him as a surrogate mother。
In truth； Richard didn’t really want it to leave。 It had bee a friend as they had traveled through the wilds。 It gave him unconditional love； never criticized him； and never argued with him。 It felt good to have a friend。 How could he deny the same thing to the gar？
The flap of wings brought him out of his thoughts。 The gar thumped to the ground before him。 It had gained a lot of weight since Richard had first found it。 He would have sworn it had grown nearly half a foot； too。
The sinew under the pink skin of its chest and belly had bee taut； and its arms were no longer all hide and bone； as they had been； but were thickening with muscle。
He was afraid to think of how big it would eventually get。 He hoped it would be on its own by then。 Hunting enough food to feed a full…grown short…tailed gar would be a full…time occupation。
After wiping the shaft on its fur…covered thigh to clean off the blood； the gar flashed Richard its hideous； bloodstained grin and held out the arrow。 Richard pointed over his shoulder。
‘I don’t want it。 Put it back where it belongs。’
The gar reached over Richard’s shoulder and slid the arrow back into the quiver that leaned against a stump。 It contorted its features； seemingly to question if it had done it correctly。 Richard smiled as he patted its full belly。
‘Good boy。 You did it right。’
The gar flopped happily on the ground at his feet； contenting itself with licking blood from its claws and coarse fur。 When it finished； it laid its long arms over Richard’s lap； and rested its head on them。
‘You need a name。’ The gar looked up； cocking its head to the side。 Its tufted ears turned toward him。 ‘Name。’ He tapped his chest。 ‘My name is Richard。’ The gar reached out and tapped Richard’s chest in imitation。 ‘Richard。 Richard。’
It cocked its head to the other side。 ‘Raaaa；’ it growled through sharp fangs； its ears twitching。
Richard nodded。 ‘Rich 。。。 ard。’
It tapped Richard’s chest again。 ‘Raaaa gurrrr；’ it said in its throaty growl； this time showing less teeth。
‘Rich 。。。 ard。’
‘Raaaach aaarg。’
Richard laughed。 That’s close。 Now； what are we going to call you？’ Richard thought about it； trying to think of something appropriate。 The gar sat； its brow bunched into deep furrows； watching him intently。 After a moment； it took Richard’s hand and tapped it against his chest。
‘Raaaach aaarg；’ it said。 It pulled Richard’s hand to its own chest； tapping it against the fur。 ‘Grrratch。’
‘Gratch？’ Richard sat up straighter in surprise。 ‘Your name is Gratch？’ He tapped the gar again。 ‘Gratch？’
The gar nodded and grinned as it tapped its own chest。 ‘Grrratch。 Grrratch。’
Richard was a little taken aback； it had never occurred to him that the gar might have a name。 ‘Gratch it is； then。’ He tapped his own chest again。 ‘Richard。’ He smiled and patted the gar’s shoulder。 ‘Gratch。’
The gar spread its wings and thumped its chest with open claws。 ‘Grrrratch！’
Richard laughed and the gar leapt on him； letting out its throaty giggle as it wrestled him to the ground。 Gratch’s love of wrestling was second only to its love of food。 The two of them tumbled across the ground； laughing and struggling to gently get the best of each other。
Richard was gentler about it than Gratch。 The gar would put its mouth around Richard’s arm； though； thankfully； at least it never bit。 Its needle…sharp fangs were long enough to easily go all the way through his arm； and he had seen the gar splinter bone with those teeth。
Richard brought the wrestling match to an end by sitting up on the stump。 Gratch sat straddling him； arms； legs； and wings wrapped around him。 It nuzzled against Richard’s shoulder。 Gratch knew that at dawn Richard left。
Richard spied a rabbit in the underbrush； some distance off； and thought that perhaps Sister Verna would appreciate some meat for breakfast。 ‘Gratch； I need a rabbit。’
Gratch climbed off his lap as Richard took up his bow。 After the arrow was off； he told the gar to bring him the rabbit； but not to eat it。 Gratch had learned to retrieve； and was happy to do it； he always got what was left of the skinning and gutting。
After Richard was done and had bid Gratch good…bye； he hiked back to camp。 His mind wandered back to the vision of Kahlan he had had in the tower； and the things she had told him。 The sight of her being beheaded haunted him。 He recalled her words：
‘Speak if you must these words； but not of this vision。 ‘Of all there were； but a single one born of the magic to bring forth truth will remain alive when the shadow’s threat is lifted。 Therefore es the greater darkness of the dead。 For there to be a chance at life’s bond； this one in white must be offered to her people； to bring their joy and good cheer。’’
He knew who the ‘this one in white’ was。 He knew what ‘bring their joy and good cheer’ meant。
He thought； too； about the prophecy that Sister Verna had told him of； the one that said； ‘He is the bringer of death； and he shall so name himself。’ She claimed the prophecy said that the holder of the sword is able to call the dead forth； call the past into the present。 He wondered； and worried； what that could mean。
At the camp； he found Sister Verna squatted at the fire； cooking bannock。 The aroma made his stomach grumble。 The sparsely wooded country was ing to life with sounds of animals and bugs heralding the dawn。 Clusters of small； dark birds sang from the tall； thinly foliated trees； and gray squirrels chased each other up and down their branches。 Richard hung the the skewer with the rabbit over the fire as Sister Verna continued to mind the bannock。
‘I brought you some breakfast。 I thought you might like some meat。’
She gave only a grunt of acknowledgment。
‘You still angry with me for saving your life yesterday？’
She carefully laid another small stick on the fire。 ‘I am not angry with you for saving my life； Richard。’
‘I thought you said your Creator hated lies。 Do you think he believes you？ I don’t。’
Her face turned so red Richard thought her curly hair might catch fire。 ‘You will not speak blasphemy。’
‘And lying is not？’
‘You do not understand； Richard； why I’m angry。’
Richard sat on the ground and； grasping his ankles； folded his legs in。 ‘Maybe