He had known cold before, a damp cold that crept in between the layers of woolens and past leather boots, but now it was so much different. The stone hut, built into an ancient cave offered protection from the wind and the increasing cold rains that would soon turn into snow, but precious little else. During the night he could keep a fire going which helped to pull the chill from his very bones, but during the day, as they slept, they had only each other for warmth, not wanting to draw anyone to their hiding place with visible smoke. In the first few weeks Gislene would venture out to feed, and then return to him. They would share the blood as they shared the warmth it brought to both their bodies. It was never the same as when he had been human, and he noticed the cold more in that first year than at any other point in his immortal lifetime.