He knew that the man before him was not much more than his own age, yet he appeared ten years older.
He sat up on his sledge as DeBar left his bird to thrust sticks into the snow, on the ends of which he hung Philip's frozen garments close to the fire.

From the man Philip's eyes traveled to the dog.

The hound yawned in the heat and he saw that one of his fangs was gone.
"If you're starving, why don't you kill the dog ?" he asked.
DeBar turned quickly, his white teeth gleaming through his beard.
"Because he's the best friend I've got on earth, or next to the best," he said warmly.

"He's stuck to me through thick and thin for ten years.
He starved with me, and fought with me, and half died with me, and he's going to live with me as long as I live.

Would you eat the flesh of your brother, Steele?
He's my brother--the last that your glorious law has left to me.