The winter passed without much incident beyond the bitter cold; but they both found remedies for that. The Medicine Seller was well-supplied for winter, only needing to take two other trips into town before the thaw came. As much as he fancied the time in the cabin, his wanderlust was starting to overtake his lust for Arthur, and he was glad when the snowdrifts had melted into muddy roads and Buell was saddled and loaded with their gear and supplies.

He packed his medicine box with what was left of their food and pelts; spring may have finally saw fit to sprung, but bitter winds still whipped through the trees at night, and body head could only do so much.

"I am ready when you are," he called to Arthur, closing up the top compartment of his box. He cast a glance back at the cabin; it was the closest thing he'd had to home in a long while, but there was a good chance that if they came back at all, it would be claimed by someone else, and so he was grateful for the warmth and safety it had provided over the winter.