Cloud Chaser stretched his limbs and got to his feet. Yawning, he seized his tattered leather hide, put it on, then strolled to the threshold of his cave and watched silently as the early rays of the morning sun daubed the surroundings in blood and crimson. With a grunt, he walked back inside, picked up the scant leftovers of his yesternight meal, next to the ashes of the dead fire, and chewed them thoughtfully. “I’m dying.” This realisation was not new. He was the last of this tribe. He had witnessed his kindred pass away one after the other. Mishap for some. Unknown, incurable illnesses for others. Old age had claimed its lot, too. Starvation had swept the rest. He cast a glance at his spear, with its polished, piercing stone end. What use he had of it anymore? Big game had vanished. The smaller one was quick, too difficult to shoot from a distance. Of course, there remained the fruits and berries borne by trees and shrubs. But they were too meagre a pick to sustain him in the long run, and they couldn’t be harvested when trees lied dormant in winter. Cloud Chaser took a fawn bone and rummaged randomly into the ashes. It didn’t use to be so. When he was a boy, food was abundant. He remembered wolfing down hunks of deers, boars, even elks and bears. Then the weather had changed: less snow, more sun, more heat. Summers became parching. The animals moved away. His tribe didn’t follow suit. As far as their collective memory harked back, they had always dwelt here. There was no reason to move, game would eventually return. Nor would the shaman have authorised it, given how many souls haunted the cave. Elsewhere, without the gentle caring of their dead, they would surely fall prey to evil foes. So he used to claim. But he had died, too. Like the others. And the animals hadn’t come back. Was that even real, Cloud Chaser wondered, or just a way to cover up laziness? Or worse, cowardice? The final blow had come when the strangers had appeared. They were alien. Their faces were weird. Cloud Chaser could see how they looked the same, and yet unlike. They were taller, lighter of build, darker of skin, less hairy. They ran faster, they hunted in big packs. They had no respect for nature: they killed more than they needed, and discarded most the carcasses which turned into carrion. They killed for fun rather than need. They had even slain a few of Cloud Chaser’s folks, and maimed others. He didn’t know why. He always had had friendly meetings with other people before. The only explanation Cloud Chaser could come with is that these aliens were intentionally cruel. When they had hunted down all but the most elusive preys, they had gone, trailed by death and desolation, leaving him, alone and starved. Now his last hour was drawing near. Soon he would join his ancestors whose souls lingered in the cave, and his body would rot away, unless some predator, attracted by the stench, would feed on it first. No one would adorn it with small trinkets and bury it deep in the back of the cave, where all the others lay. He shook his head in defiance. He couldn’t resign to die like this. He had to leave something behind. Futile and pointless, maybe, but something that would survive him, something which meant “I was here, you know?” Something other than brittle and dry bones. But what? The bone he was holding fell from his hand right into the ashes. Cloud Chaser growled in anger. He fetched it back, and stood up. He felt weak. His head reeled. He had to drop the bone and press his hands against the wall to keep his balance. When he recovered, he pulled his hands back. They had left two dark, five-fingered shapes on the wall. Cloud Chaser smiled. He rushed to the nook where he kept the brown powder he smeared over his body to better conceal himself while hunting. He dived his hands deep into the brown dust heap, walked back to where he stood, and pressed them again on the wall, only this time harder. When he drew them back, they had left two other unmistakable, sharp prints. Cloud Chaser stepped back, sat in contemplation, and nodded. Now, he could die in peace.