He pressed a gentle kiss to Arthur's brow and nodded. He wouldn't hound the man about his health, but he was what he was, and the occasional check in would hardly hurt.

And a good meal after the body went through a dramatic physical shift would certainly help.

"Rest and warm up then," he murmured softly, lips lingering just a moment longer before he stood to get their breakfast ready.

The Medicine Seller did have supplies - the winter saw his magical box practically become a larder; nuts, dried fruit, stock fish, dried fish, dried kelp, and dried mushrooms, potatoes, onions, roots and tubers and gourds, pickled and brined vegetables, along with sacks of flour, sugar, salt, rice, and his luckiest trade; a large pot of miso paste. Just a little taste of home, insofar as much as the Medicine Seller considered something 'home'.

He skinned the hare and prepared the meat by dicing it finely, seasoning it with salt and ginger, and rolling it into balls much as he'd done when they had camped by the pool. This time it was not cooked with summer vegetables, but instead sweet potato, turnip and onion, in a broth of salt, miso paste and fish. It was the kind of meal he'd prepared so many times he could practically do it in his sleep, and it wasn't long until he was ladling a heavy portions into their bowls.