Last night, I went to bed holding the prehistoric tool. I fell asleep quickly, and I began to dream of the tundra.
I was staring into the fire and the old woman spoke. She said she was surprised that I'd finally done as she wanted. I asked her what was happening, what this was. She stared into the fire for a long time. Then she told me that if you follow a tiger, you might find the herd and eat for a season. But it might eat you. I think she said tiger, anyway. The word wasn't clear to me. I asked her what she meant. She furrowed her brow, and I got the impression she'd said as much as she could. She stared back into the fire, and began chewing on a stick. She said the seasons come and go, the herds come and go. The mountain remains. I turned to her to ask what she meant by that. She was facing me, smiling, showing her cracked brown teeth. She said: in time.
The thing didn't come last night. I'll get in the lab tomorrow and start looking for useful equipment. If it does come back, I'm going to follow it.