[ It's a good plan — a necessary security for the immediate future, with Konstantin routinely needing to feed the creature inside of him and Vasiliy routinely having to procure that food. This way, the latter won't have to go hunt, and they'll have a steady source of food, and for now, at least, avoid the threat of running out of animal life to provide to the alien thing.

The process of feeding it has been successful, even if not necessarily easy. Konstantin frequently struggles with the disgust of the act itself and the disgust of the mental association that comes with the act — no longer is "feeding" a separate activity that belongs to the creature, but now he is the one actively feeding for it, and to say he's been adjusting well to that association would be... false; it's a frequent agony. The only relief comes in the form that it's as civilised of a thing as it could possibly be, warm blood sipped from glasses, not sucked from the veins and tissue of some screaming dying thing torn apart by teeth. Mercifully, the alien entity has accepted the offerings of grouse blood (and at times wanting something meatier, preferring its hormone to be consumed through the brain matter of the things), although Konstantin can't help a perpetual worry that it surely can't last, that sooner or later it will need a human.

But for now... it hasn't acted on any such needs. The environment here must be a huge factor in that, for the creature's state is noticeably weakened as a result of not having access to humans (he knows this because his own state remains weak, not as stabilised as it had been back in the facility after being fed humans) and yet for it not to emerge.... It makes sense; it's never been exposed to such harsh elements, to snow and ice and such frigid air. Its body is already hardly equipped to handle Earth, much less Earth's more extreme climates. It's kept itself warm inside of him. For now, things are..... manageable.

And it's nice, the thought of this coop, of what it represents. It's a sort of hope, a concept that Konstantin hasn't been able to allow himself to indulge in, in quite some time. It's also a novelty, something new and entertaining and he's been having fun with it — even if he's not able to actually do much to help construct the thing himself. But he watches Vasiliy at work, and at first it's simple curiosity and then it's a sort of amusement; all of this business is a little bit funny, this constructing a coop — imagine! Him, a cosmonaut, living in the remote reaches of Canada, playing farmer with another man.

At some point, though, the amused smile drifts from his face as he stands at the glass door, and he's now watching Vasiliy as he chops some wood — not for the the pen, it seems, but readying some more firewood. It's not an unusual act in the least, and yet something to it gives Konstantin pause. There's an odd lingering needling thing in him these days, a strange discomfort felt and lasting for the first time in his life, that he's unable to do physical labor, or anything physically strenuous at all. His recovery is a slow process (and perhaps a doomed one, if the creature inside of him remains weak and his state remains weak right along with it... he tries not to think about that too much, hangs onto the notion that he'll get better, get stronger again, it will just take time....)

In the meantime, admiring Vasiliy's work is.... something. It's nice to see another man in action, a reminder up close and personal of the values they both hold in such high regard — strength and capability. The push of lean muscle against the stretch of the younger's man's clothing, the curve of his spine as he leans to swing the axe against wood, splitting it, the heavy breaths of effort that come from exertion; the exhibition is commendable, and it's not quite with envy that he watches the other man work, but a sort of appreciation that perhaps only someone from their culture would possess. (And up under it, perhaps a sort of longing, a yearning, that he isn't right there with Vasiliy, doing the same.)

It makes him a little solemn, wistful in some way, and very focused, eyes roaming the other's body, taking him in. It's a display of masculinity, athleticism, and it's familiar and comforting and nice to watch, and he's staring, and then Vasiliy is returning to the house and he blinks out of some quiet stun only to be freshly stunned all over again by the way the younger man is looking at him. Vasiliy's face and eyes brightening as they make contact, everything lifting immediately, as though he's happy to see him there.

It takes Konstantin aback, but in no negative way, and his natural response is absolutely to reciprocate — his own dark eyes lightening, a smile that's warm and familiar and there before he can even think about it. He steps aside to let Vasiliy in out of the cold, reaching his hands out for the logs and welcoming them to his chest. ]

You must be ready for a break after working so hard. [ His tone hides none of its impressed respect, that recognition of Vasiliy's efforts (...and the fact Konstantin has been watching him do them), and he tilts his head towards the kitchen. ]

I've made tea, if you'd like some. I still can't find any lemons, but there's plenty of sugar.

[ Some things are woefully rare in this isolated and cold place, but he'd managed to find some black tea stored in tins in the Community Center and it's been another little dose of familiarity; he enjoys making tea for them the way they would have it back home. It's one small thing he can do for Vasiliy and he finds himself doing it more often these days, having it ready for him when he comes inside more than once over the past weeks. ]