She sniffed at Kazan's back and head, where the mittened hand had touched.

Then she trotted back into the darkness again, for beyond the edge of the forest she once more saw moving life.
The man was returning, and with him was the girl.

Her voice was soft and sweet, and there was about her the breath and sweetness of woman.
The man stood prepared, but not threatening.
"Be careful, Joan," he warned.
She dropped on her knees in the snow, just out of reach.
"Come, boy--come!" she said gently.

She held out her hand.

Kazan's muscles twitched.