The months slipped past them, filled with teaching, talking, and simply enjoying each other's company in silence. Though they were together nearly all the time, in a fairly small space, neither of them found the other to be tiring or irritating.

Flame hunted, and Aidan cooked and helped her clean the skins she brought in. She took a few things now that she might not have before, things that weren't terribly good eating but that had valuable pelts. She ate them all the same, of course. Waste was against her nature. Whenever the weather permitted she would travel to Coppertop and trade pelts for more comforts. Soon there was a low bed in her bedroom, and a backless couch where Aidan could sit comfortably, and a scattering of large, comfortable cushions on the floor, so she no longer needed to lie on uncured hides.

Flame was a bit worried after the bed and its bedding was delivered. She'd considered getting two, but the one had taken every copper she had. She could have gotten two cheaper, smaller ones, but if she did she'd just end up needing to replace them with better eventually, so she bought just the single large bed, something she might have bought for herself even if Aidan had never come. She went into the still doorless room and lay down on the bed when night began to fall that first night. The couch stood in front of the fire, if Aidan should prefer the warmth there. And she saw him stop by it, and glance back and forth between couch and bedroom for some time. Then wordlessly he came in, and curled up next to her as he always had. She was glad, though she felt again the little twinge of pain, to know that this was only temporary and before long he would leave. She shoved it from her mind. Maybe it wouldn't last, but that was all the more reason to enjoy his company while she could.

After three months, Aidan finally removed the splint from his wing. He had gone to Coppertop and had a real healer look at it when he first felt well enough to make the trip. It had been properly splinted, and the healer had used a touch of magic to be certain it would heal straight and strong, but did nothing else. "You don't want me to speed heal a bone, lad, unless you absolutely must be flying right away. It'll hurt far worse than breaking it did." Since Aidan didn't plan on going anywhere, he had been happy enough to let nature take its course with only a little bit of help.

It was a relief to finally be able to spread and fold his wing properly, though. He flexed and flapped it a few times, then sighed. "It's going to be a good long while before I can fly with it. I can tell it's weak as water right now, and with the snow out there I'm not sure I'd want to go outside and try to practice." Flame just smiled, pleased that he had a reason to stay that much longer.

More of the short winter days slipped past, one much like another. On one frozen winter afternoon Aidan asked, "Do you know what the date is?"

Flame shook her head. "I haven't been counting. It's Third Winter, I'm pretty sure, but what day I don't know. Why?"

Aidan smiled and shrugged. "My birthday is this month, on the fourteenth. I don't think we could throw much of a party, but I like to at least note the day, count off one more year."

Flame was finally able to ask a question she'd had on her mind for some time without it sounding wrong. "How old are you?"

"I'll be nineteen whenever my birthday passes," he replied.

"You're older than I thought you were!"

He chuckled. "Yeah. I've never looked my age, between being so short and having such a baby face." He made a face. "I never really liked it, but I guess it's not the end of the world. And I don't think you're exactly an ancient either! How old are you?"

Flame laughed. "No, I'm not an ancient. But firecats measure the years differently, and our years are different lengths as well, so any answer I could give you would be meaningless."

He sensed an evasion of some sort, but didn't pursue the issue. "How about your birthday then, what day were you born?"

She smiled. "Were it any other day, I couldn't tell you. I said our years are different. But I happened to be born on the summer solstice. So here it would be the twenty-first of First Summer."

"Too bad I won't be here to celebrate it with you," he said, a little wistfully.

"Yes, too bad."