Wilde shrugged.

"It may be age. It may also have been the snow. You seem hale enough."

He extended a hand for the dirty dishes. There was a stone basin with snow melting in it for just such a thing.

Outside, a bitter wind howled, rattling the windows. Wilde had stuffed old rags into the cracks, and drew the wool curtains to keep the draft out.

"Rest a while - when you feel up to making the trek, I saddle up Pehj. He'll get you back to the village safely."