These Cages We Build for Ourselves

Chapter 13

Nash awakens with a mission: make pancakes for Aster. His batter ends up a little lumpy, but it's not too obvious once the pancakes are cooked. He sets aside the crispy casualties for himself—no sense in wasting good mistakes—and piles the best ones on a plate. A generous splash of maple syrup later, and he's presenting his creation to Aster without shame.

Nash is a little behind when it comes to life skills of many kinds, and he has good reasons for that, but he's very aware that from the outside it just makes him look immature and incapable. Maybe being trash at cooking is even fairly normal for a guy his age, but he's trying to take care of Aster, and he hates the idea of falling short.

Breakfasts are easy enough, and sandwiches make for a reasonable lunch, but as evening approaches, Nash still hasn't decided on dinner. He winces, remembering last night's overcooked sausages and limp vegetables. Even prison food probably has more flavour.

As the sun begins to set, a familiar itch crawls beneath Nash's skin. He's been on two legs for too long. It won't solve his dinner dilemma—wolves aren't exactly known for their culinary skills beyond "raw steak, yum"—but it might keep him from getting any weirder around Aster. The urge to sniff him is already bad enough.

He heads outside into the cool night air and strips down. They aren't exactly out in the middle of nowhere, but they're isolated enough that they don't have to worry about scandalised neighbours.

Nash isn't sure he'll ever get used to the sensation of shifting. It feels like his body is breaking itself, pulling in impossible directions, joints cracking and bones resetting themselves into new configurations. It feels like it should be painful, but it isn't. He's grateful it only takes a few seconds, because it's not long enough to properly comprehend the things that are happening to his body before it's already over.

The complicated feelings Nash has about being a wolf feel a lot less complicated whenever he actually is one. He's still himself, but he's something else as well. A part that just wants to run and feel the earth under his paws.

And, okay, maybe pee on some stuff too. He knows he'll cringe about it later, but right now, with Aster in the house, his wolfy brain is all "must protect." Though honestly, he's not even sure what exactly he's trying to ward off with his piss. He's never smelled anything concerning in the area.

The creak of the front door catches Nash's attention, and he circles back towards the house. Sticking to the shadows, he watches Aster step outside. Aster's wearing his sweater, but his legs are bare. He's slowly munching on an apple, eyes roaming over the herbs Niko planted in the garden beds out front. Nash makes a mental note to learn about cooking with herbs—it might impress Aster.

As Nash approaches, he deliberately rustles some leaves, but Aster still jumps a little when he spots him. They both freeze for a moment, caught in an awkward standoff. Then Aster takes another bite of his apple and crouches down to examine some herb Nash doesn't know the name of.

Even from a distance, Nash can pick up Aster's scent. He's drawn to it, padding closer until he's right beside him. Nash doesn't actually sniff Aster—he's not that far gone—but just being near is enough to flood his senses.

The smell of stress clings to Aster, which isn't surprising. He's been in the same clothes since that night Nash showed up bleeding, clutching a sacrificial dagger. Nash wonders how much of the stress is leftover from that wild situation, and how much is from whatever happened after. When Nash finally got a good look at Aster's face that night, the look in his eyes was... haunted. There's no other word for it.

Nash still has no clue what's going on in Aster's head, and right now, his wolf brain isn't equipped to puzzle it out. All he wants is to lean against Aster's leg, to somehow make him feel safe and protected.