Woodley picked up the last stone. He drew what he deserved--a sullen,
scared old tomcat with none of the verve of Captain Wow. Woodley's
Partner was the most animal of all the cats on the ship, a low,
brutish type with a dull mind. Even telepathy had not refined his
character. His ears were half chewed off from the first fights in
which he had engaged.
He was a serviceable fighter, nothing more.
Woodley grunted.
Underhill glanced at him oddly. Didn't Woodley ever do anything but
grunt?
Father Moontree looked at the other three. "You might as well get your
Partners now. I'll let the Scanner know we're ready to go into the
Up-and-Out."