Kazan's jaws dripped as the hot scent drove the blood like veins of fire through his weakened body.

His eyes were reddened by starvation, and in them there was a light now that they had never known even in the days of the wolf-pack.
He set off swiftly, almost forgetful of Gray Wolf.

But his mate no longer required his flank for guidance.

With her nose close to the trail she ran--ran as she had run in the long and thrilling hunts before blindness came.

Half a mile from the spruce thicket they came upon the old bull.