The people look around curiously. They hardly seem to notice your presence. One by one they get up and walk around. One of them drinks from the stream. They make grunting and clicking noises, but do not seem to be actually talking among themselves. The largest of the group picks up a stick from the ground and begins prying up the roots of plants along the edge of the stream. He bites at each one. Finally he smiles and passes the root around to the others. One woman claps her hands. The others begin to find sticks. One of the men hands you a piece of root. You bite at it. It tastes like a dirty carrot. The women smile at you. You are accepted in the group.

The next morning you wake up in the soft mossy bank in Snake Cavern, a few dozen yards from the entrance to the cave, wondering how much of what has been happening to you has been a dream and how much has been reality. But you have no desire to go into the Cave of Time again.