"We are brothers," he said. "I am old Gomposh, brother to all the forest folk."
"I am brother to the wolves," Shasta replied.
"You will find yourself brother to many strange folk before you are much older," Gomposh said, and when he had finished he gave a slow wag with his head.
"Who are the folk?" Shasta asked wonderingly.
"Ah!" Gomposh said, looking even wiser than before. He looked so tremendously full of knowledge that Shasta felt very small and ignorant indeed.
"There are the lynxes and the foxes to begin with," Gomposh said after a pause. But Shasta shook his head.
"No," he said. "They are not brothers. We have no kinship with them, we of the wolves."
Gomposh looked at him for a minute or two without speaking, and Shasta felt uncomfortable.
"It is not for you to say who are not brothers," Gomposh said gravely. "You are not a wolf!"
Shasta blinked his eyes at that. It was the first time any one had told him that he was not a wolf.