Rind.

The next day, Kellan lingered around the house long into the morning, ostensibly because the wind was too strong for hunting, but Gustin knew it was because the wolfe was worried and wanted to watch him. Gustin, for the most part, felt fine. He'd woken up mostly sober around ten and had managed to get the room to stop spinning by eleven, so long as he was prudent with movement. He therefore chose to lay in the bed until twelve. Kuskellanar paced in the center room, occasionally lifting his head in an odd way towards the door, and eventually the fog cleared and Gustin came to realize that he was listening for something.
"What are you doing?"
Kellan's head snapped around, his face guilty. He furrowed his brow and grunted in response.
"Mmm. Good. It's a talking day, then."
Kellan snorted, went back to pacing. After a few minutes, he went over to the cooking pit, moved the top from the heavy pot that had been hanging there and ladled some stew out into two bowls.
"Noonmeal."
Now it was Gustin's turn to grunt in response. Trying not to disturb his inner balance or set the room to spinning again, he slowly sat up, swung his legs over the side of the furs, and padded across the floor to Kuskellanar. They ate in silence at the newly-carved low table, both crosslegged on the floor, across from one another. Kellan sniffed the air, seemed to be considering something again when he spoke.
"I woke last night in a hunger."
Gustin looked up at him, couldn't comprehend the cryptic words, and turned his attention back to his soup, responding inattentively.
"Great."
Kellan looked annoyed at his nonchalance.
"A hunger I have not felt so strongly in a long time."
"I've told you before about eating so many potatoes."
Kellan growled.
"A hunger," he corrected sharply, "of a different sort."
Gustin's eyes widened and he swallowed down his mouthful.
"Oh."
The pieces fell into place. Awkward.
"I believe this was caused by your behavior last night. Or maybe by your extended presence here."
Gustin narrowed his eyes at the accusatory tone.
"I'm sorry that you can't cope with a little flirting. I'll try to restrain myself from now on."
Kellan waved his hand impatiently.
"This is a matter of larger issue than simple sluttish wantonness."
Gustin took outright offense to that.
"Hey! I had a few too many, and I got a little flirty with my - being generous here - housemate. It's happened to the best of us, and I'll be damned if - "
Kellan cut him off again.
"It's triggered my season."
Gustin paused.
"What?"
"My season. It was in abeyance. Now it's not. Ever since the night."
Gustin closed down on another mouthful, looked thoughtful, then suddenly afraid.
"So...are you in heat right now?"
Kellan blinked at him, took another swallow of stew.
"I assure you, human, if I were in season right now, you would have no need to ask that question."
Gustin wasn't sure whether or not to count that as reassurance. He did, however, decide to count the fact that one little act of flirtation had reawakened the wolfe's latent sex drive as a compliment of the highest order. It all seemed roses to Gustin, so he wasn't sure why Kuskellanar seemed so concerned about his return to an active lifestyle, so to speak.
"But I will be, before the springtime."
That was why. Winter freeze still kept them essentially trapped here together, sealed into their little home in the snow. Far travel would be difficult for Kellan, and anyway, it wasn't as if Kellan would leave him alone. Gustin was, as he had been reminded many times, Kellan's ticket home and he wasn't about to lose him. Gus chewed his stew.
"Oh."
"And when my season begins, Gustin, I will not be nearly so inclined, as I was last night, to resist you."
Gustin swallowed convulsively, his throat still tasting of rabbit.
"So what are we going to do?"