"I do not know," he said. "I would not rule it out. But there is often a few months between a bite and a change. It may very well have been a fortuitous eleventh-hour save, it may not have been."

He let his hands rove Arthur's torso under the pretense of washing him. Still thin, but he could feel muscle and sinew returning where there had been barely skin and bone last time they met. Best of all, the smell of death and disease had vanished.

"I doubt we will ever know for certain, but I am not too worried about your condition; you have strong control not only of yourself but of the changes themselves, and you are in a place where you are unlikely to come into much contact with humans. Vitality is returning to you, not leaving, and you seemed very comfortable in your own skin as a bear."

He rested his chin on Arthur's shoulder, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I do not say this often, but I am optimistic of the outcome."