But she would not eat, and at last Kazan went and sat on his haunches at her side, and with her looked at what he had dug out from under the snow.

He sniffed the air.
He could not smell danger, but Gray Wolf told him that it might be there.
She told him many other things in the days and nights that followed.

The third night Kazan himself gathered the hunt-pack and led in the chase.
Three times that month, before the moon left the skies, he led the chase, and each time there was a kill.

But as the snows began to grow softer under his feet he found a greater and greater companionship in Gray Wolf, and they hunted alone, living on the big white rabbits.

In all the world he had loved but two things, the girl with the shining hair and the hands that had caressed him--and Gray Wolf.
He did not leave the big plain, and often He took his mate to the top of the ridge, and he would try to tell her what he had left back there.
With the dark nights the call of the woman became so strong upon him that he was filled with a longing to go back, and take Gray Wolf with him.
Something happened very soon after that.