Rather did it permeate him with a delicious sadness, and lift him away and out of the _Ariel_ (lying at anchor in some coral lagoon) to that unreal place of Otherwhere.
For visions were his at such times.

In the cold bleakness of night, it would seem he sat on a bare hill and raised his howl to the stars, while out of the dark, from far away, would drift to him an answering howl.

And other howls, near and far, would drift along until the night was vocal with his kind.

His kind it was.

Without knowing it he _knew_ it, this camaraderie of the land of Otherwhere.
Nalasu, in teaching him the whiff-whuff language, deliberately had gone into the intelligence of him; but Villa, unwitting of what she was doing, went into the heart of him, and into the heart of his heredity, touching the profoundest chords of ancient memories and making them respond.
As instance: dim shapes and shadowy forms would sometimes appear to him out of the night, and as they flitted spectrally past he would hear, as in a dream, the hunting cries of the pack; and, as his pulse quickened, his own hunting instinct would rouse until his controlled soft-howling in the song broke into eager whinings.