He whined, and Gray Wolf thrust her warm muzzle against his neck.
Something told them both that they were outcasts, that the plains, and the moon, and the stars were against them now, and they slunk into the shelter and the gloom of the forest.
Kazan could not go far.

He could still smell the camp when he lay down.
Gray Wolf snuggled close to him.

Gently she soothed with her soft tongue Kazan's bleeding wounds.

And Kazan, lifting his head, whined softly to the stars..