He knew that it was Neewa's blood, and his eyes glowed like twin balls of fire as they watched the opening through which they had entered into the dark tangle of fallen trees.
For an hour he did not move, and in that hour, as in the hour after the killing of the rabbit, he GREW.

When at last he crept out cautiously from under the windfall the sun was sinking behind the western forests.
He peered about him, watching for movement and listening for sound.

The sagging and apologetic posture of puppyhood was gone from him.

His overgrown feet stood squarely on the ground; his angular legs were as hard as if carven out of knotty wood; his body was tense, his ears stood up, his head was rigidly set between the bony shoulders that already gave evidence of gigantic strength to come.

About him he knew was the Big Adventure.