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Sleep enfolded him while Gaul was still nodding； and the dream came at once。
It was daylight； and he stood alone near the Waygate； which looked like an elegantly carved length of wall； incongruous on the mountainside。 Except for that there was no sign any human had ever set foot on that slope。 The sky was bright and fine； and a soft breeze up the valley brought him the scent of deer and rabbits； quail and dove； a thousand distinct smells； of water and earth and trees。 This was the wolf dream。
For a moment the sense of being a wolf rolled over him。 He had paws； and。。。 No！ He ran his hands over himself； relieved to find only his own body； in his own coat and cloak。 And the wide belt that normally held his axe； but with the hammer haft thrust through the loop instead。
He frowned at that； and surprisingly； for a moment； the axe flickered there instead； insubstantial and misty。 Abruptly it was the hammer again。 Licking his lips； he hoped it stayed that way。 The axe might be a better weapon； but he preferred the hammer。 He could not remember anything like that happening before； something changing； but he knew little of this strange place。 If it could be called a place。 It was the wolf dream； and odd things happened there； surely as odd as in any ordinary dream。
As though thinking of the oddities triggered one of them； a patch of sky against the mountains darkened suddenly； became a window to somewhere else。 Rand stood amid swirling stormwinds； laughing wildly； even madly； arms upraised； and on the winds rode small shapes； gold and scarlet； like the strange figure on the Dragon banner； hidden eyes watched Rand； and there was no telling whether he knew it。 The odd 〃window〃 winked out； only to be replaced by another farther over； where Nynaeve and Elayne stalked cautiously through a demented landscape of twisted； shadowed buildings； hunting some dangerous beast。 Perrin could not have said how he knew it was dangerous； but he did。 That vanished； and another black blotch spread across the sky。 Mat； standing where a road forked ahead of him。 He flipped a coin； started down one branch； and suddenly was wearing a wide brimmed hat and walking with a staff bearing a short sword blade。 Another 〃window；〃 and Egwene and a woman with long white hair were staring at him in surprise while behind them the White Tower crumbled stone by stone。 Then they were gone； too。
Perrin drew a deep breath。 He had seen the like before； here in the wolf dream； and he thought the sightings were real in some way； or meant something。 Whatever they were； the wolves never saw them。 Moiraine had suggested that the wolf dream was the same as something called Tel'aran'rhiod； and then would say no more。 He had overheard Egwene and Elayne speaking of dreams； once； but Egwene already knew too much about him and wolves； perhaps as much as Moiraine。 It was not something he could talk about； not even with her。
There was one person he could have talked to。 He wished he could find Elyas Machera； the man who had introduced him to the wolves。 Elyas had to know about these things。 When he thought of the man； it seemed for a moment he heard his own name whispered faintly in the wind； but when he listened； there was only the wind。 It was a lonely sound。 Here there was only himself。
〃Hopper！〃 he called； and in his mind； Hopper！ The wolf was dead； and yet not dead； here。 The wolf dream was where wolves came when they died； to await being born again。 It was more than that； to wolves； they seemed in some way to be aware of the dream even while awake。 One was almost as real … maybe as real … as the other； to them。 〃Hopper！〃 Hopper！ But Hopper did not e。
This was all useless。 He was there for a reason； and he might as well get on with it。 At best； getting down to where he had seen the ravens rise would take hours。
He took a step … the land around him blurred … and his foot came down near a narrow brook beneath stunted hemlock and mountain willow； with cloud…capped peaks towering above。 For a moment he stared in amazement。 He was at the far end of the valley from the Waygate。 In fact； he was at the very spot he had been aiming for； the place where the ravens had e from； and the arrow that killed the first hawk。 Such a thing had never happened to him before。 Was he learning more of the wolf dream … Hopper had always said he was ignorant … or was it different this time？
He was more cautious with his next step； but it was only a step。 There was no evidence of archer or ravens； no track； no feather； no scent。 He was not sure what he had expected。 There would be no sign unless they had been in the dream； too。 But if he could find wolves in the dream； they could help him find their brothers and sisters in the waking world； and those wolves could tell him if there were Shadowspawn in the mountains。 Perhaps if he were higher up they could hear him call。
Fixing his eye on the highest peak bordering the valley； just below the clouds； he stepped。 The world blurred； and he was standing on the mountainside； with white billows not five spans overhead。 In spite of himself； he laughed。 This was fun。 From here he could see the entire valley stretched out below。
〃Hopper！〃 No answer。
He leaped to the next mountain； calling； and the next； and the next； eastward； toward the Two Rivers。 Hopper did not answer。 More troubling； Perrin did not sense any other wolves； either。 There were always wolves in the wolf dream。 Always。
From peak to peak he sped in blurred motion； calling； seeking。 The mountains lay empty beneath him； except for deer and other game。 Yet there were occasional signs of men。 Ancient signs。 Twice great carved figures took nearly an entire mountainside； and in another place strange angular letters two spans high had been incised across a cliff a shade too smooth and sheer。 Weathering had worn away the figures' faces； and eyes less sharp than his might have taken the letters themselves for the work of wind and rain。 Mountains and cliffs gave way to the Sand Hills； great rolling mounds sparsely covered with tough grass and stubborn bushes； once the shore of a great sea before the Breaking。 And suddenly he saw another man； atop a sandy hill。
The fellow was too distant to see clearly； just a tall； dark…haired man； but plainly not a Trolloc or anything of the sort； in a blue coat with a bow on his back； stooping over something on the ground hidden by the low brush。 Yet there was something familiar about him。
The wind rose； and Perrin caught his smell faintly。 A cold scent； that was the only way to describe it。 Cold； and not really human。 Suddenly his own bow was in his hand； an arrow nocked； and the weight of a filled quiver tugged at his belt。
The other man looked up； saw Perrin。 For a heartbeat he hesitated； then turned and became a streak； slashing away across the hills。
Perrin leaped down to where he had stood； stared at what had occupied the fellow； and without thought pursued； leaving the half…skinned corpse of a wolf behind。 A dead wolf in the wolf dream。 It was unthinkable。 What could kill a wolf here？ Something evil。
His prey ran ahead of him in str