"Ow..."

Groaning, Tino rolled out flat on his back, stretching his limbs north and south of his body. The man wriggled his spine and scapulae against the mattress beneath him, hoping that the movement would aid him in relieving his muscles of their pain.

Berwald had vacated the room earlier, so the Finn reached under his shirt and pulled at his binder. What an aggravating piece of crap! he thought to himself, furious at the garment. Tino had been accompanying his companion in bed for a few weeks, and the constricting piece of clothing he'd had to wear was having a toll on his physical well-being. I'm going to get out of this damnable thing as soon as possible! vowed the young man, sitting up to shake his shoulders and torso. A bath, he figured, would be the solution; a long, hot, uninterrupted bath, where he could relax much like he had in his homeland's saunas as a child.

"G'morning," said Berwald as Tino wandered into the kitchen. "Coffee's ready."

"Thanks," he yawned, taking a place at the little table in the middle of the space. Without thinking about what he was doing, he began to rub his shoulders against the upper edge of the chair. Berwald cocked an eyebrow skyward.

"Are you all right?"

He froze. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, my back hurts a little, that's all."

The Swede turned away, making as if to take something out of the refrigerator. "I could... give you a massage, if you want," he offered, quickly hiding his reddening face within the device. He pretended to search the drawers as he awaited an answer.

For Tino it was a tempting offer, an incredibly tempting offer. Strong hands, healing him, tantalizing him, easing his pain! How heavenly, he dreamed, that would be. But it wasn't possible. "I'm okay. You don't need to do that."

"Are you sure? Don't forget, we have to move wood later today, don't want to have problems with that."

"I'll be okay," he replied, flinching out of sight. He'd forgotten they were going to haul in wood for the fireplace. "A hot bath should be all I need."

"If ya say so."

.

He lowered himself into the hot water, exhaling contentedly. The daily chores would wait however long he wanted them to; this was his time to relax, and he'd let nothing interrupt it. Berwald could come begging at the door for him to finish his bath, but if he wasn't ready to leave it, he wouldn't care, even if it meant they'd be moving the wood in the dark. It was his right to be occasionally selfish.

Breathing in the muggy air, he reminisced once more about visiting saunas. It felt like forever had passed since he'd last been in one. As a part of his culture, the ritual was one in which he was saddened he could no longer partake. Neither was swimming an option anymore. Stupid things, he thought, gripping a side of his chest. And I bet they'll get cancer, too. This is rubbish. I shouldn't have to deal with this.

Already his plans for relaxing were being foiled, not by any external factors, but by his own disheartening thoughts. He tried to dislodge them, but they were persistent; he found that every time he attempted to focus his mind elsewhere, there was an inevitable slide back into the glum truths about his physical constraints.

A gentle knock disrupted his cycling cogitations.

"What is it?"

"Sorry to bother you," Berwald began, his deep and mellow voice muffled by the door. "Don't forget the sun sets around 1:30. It gets very cold once dark sets in, which makes the work hard."

"I remember," he replied. "I'll be out in a bit."

He didn't really want to stay in, anyway.

.

With the right gloves, a friend, and warm clothes, moving firewood wasn't too difficult a task; it did, however, require a lot of bending, and mister Väinämöinen wasn't thrilled to participate with his back still aching. Thankfully Berwald let him have what he thought was the easier task, which was ordering the wood. He stood in the back of the truck, with the Swedish man depositing the pieces of wood near him; Tino took the logs and stacked them neatly, so that no more trips than necessary would have to be made.

The work was tedious, and his mind wandered to the wilderness. He and Berwald had glanced deer on their way through the forest, as well as seen bear leavings, although the bears themselves had fortunately remained absent. Moss and lichens ornamented the bark of the wood he stacked, and he was careful where he put his fingers, lest a slug, beetle, or some other tender creature still clung to the logs.

Even the felled trees, he figured, were part of the wilderness; and now, they were being taken inside, to be used at the hearth. Huddled indoors on cold winter days, he and his housemate would yet be tied to the wilderness outside. It made him smile to think that although human beings tried so hard to shelter themselves from the ravages of the exterior world, it was simply rearranged pieces of that exterior environment that would keep them warm and protected, in the end. He and Berwald were still creatures of the wilderness.

His mind turned to the wooden floors of Berwald's house. Perhaps the boards had been gleaned from these very groves long ago, he considered, maybe even before many of the current trees had existed. He could picture Berwald younger and in the distant past, felling trees alone, that he might make a home for himself.

"Hey, Ber, did you build your house?"

"Yeah. Long time ago."

Tino laughed. "You're a bear of the forest!"

"Is that so?" grinned the Swede, lingering beside the bed of the pickup. "Well then I guess I'd better get ready for hibernation. Maybe I'll start with... a little bite of Tino!"

Berwald swiped his hands like an angry bear at the young man; failing to catch the laughing creature, he growled and took hold of the side of the truck and shook it back and forth. "I'm gonna getcha!"

"Oh no!" squealed Tino dramatically, "You don't want to eat me, mister bear! I've been eating nothing but surströmming all day!"

"I know!" roared Berwald in his best bear voice, "All I had to do to find you was follow the smell of your breath!" He pinched his nose. "Peww!"

When finally the wood loading was completed, and the heavens were folding into dusk, Berwald helped his friend down from the truck for the last time.

"We did good work!" said Tino, glad for their progress.

"That we did. And now, I've got something to give you."

"Really?"

"A great big bear hug!"

Berwald surrounded the Finnish man, holding him snugly against his body. Tino chuckled, allowing himself to be held, somewhat relieved his arms were trapped in front of him.

"I'm glad you're not a real bear," remarked Tino when Berwald let go, "or now I'd be your dinner!"