Another moment and they were off, with Bram in the lead.
Philip was amazed at the pace set by the master of the pack.

With head and shoulders hunched low he set off in huge swinging strides that kept the team on a steady trot behind him.

They must have traveled eight miles an hour.

For a few minutes Philip could not keep his eyes from Bram and the gray backs of the wolves.

They fascinated him, and at the same time the sight of them--straining on ahead of him into a voiceless and empty world--filled him with a strange and overwhelming compassion.
He saw in them the brotherhood of man and beast.