The kitchen was almost like her little sanctuary. There was something about walking into the pristine and well-organized room that brought her a sense of comfort, or at least in this case steadiness. Raven truly felt at peace and comfort when she was outside breathing the fresh air, or curled up within the hammock of her bedroom, her nose suck in a book. However, the kitchen was the next best thing. Here she could control her environment. Create and mold something she could proud of, and share her handiwork with those she held so dearly. The young woman was deprived of a lot of things in the beginning of her life. The words of praise and appreciation was sorely lacking in her childhood. Cooking for her family gave her a sense of purpose. It wasn't that they couldn't cook and feed themselves. The lupine just wanted to do something, to show how appreciative she was, to show how much she cared for them. Cooking was her way of building pride for herself, pride that began from a very humble beginning. Seeing Matteo within her kitchen was...odd, and extremely out of place. This was a space she shared with those she trusted. Seeing someone that wasn't pack, staff, or friend made her a it uneasy. It wasn't that she had something to be afraid of with Matteo around. He was just...a stranger. Matteo didn't seem to be the type to walk around their seedy neighborhood...he would stick out like a sore thumb. Blue-grey eyes narrowed slightly, mentally questioning his answer. With a heavy sigh she shook her head in dismay.

"You sure did pick an odd day to drop in."

Shifting her gaze to the floor she returned to pondering where her Alpha and mate could be. She really shouldn't be this concerned. But, last time Tetradore disappeared without telling any of them where he was going, Frost killed him. Surely, Frost wouldn't do that again. Everything wasn't peaceful between them, but it wasn't quite bad either. She still had that old personal book of his resting along her dresser. The Norse mythology stories were quite interesting and she had a few questions she wished to ask the distant man. There were only a few more chapters to finish. Perhaps she could try to read a chapter or two...oh she shouldn't bother to try. Raven knew she wouldn't focus on it. It would just be a waste of time. Spending time cooking a meal would help. After all she had to concentrate and yet nothing sounded appetizing. Listening to Matteo explain that her boys wouldn't be home to enjoy one of her meals just made her sigh in defeat. So, she couldn't prepare a meal even for them. God what was she going to do? If she couldn't cook for them then she might as well cook for the older fae. Hearing the surprise note in his voice her eyes shifted upwards for a moment. A faint simper appeared pleased to see he was interested in taking on her suggestion. As he seated himself on the stool she slid off the counter taking a few steps forward and placing the cookbook in front of him. A shrug accompanied her response as she inquired just what he might like to eat.

"I don't know, I could do something simple like a grilled cheese sandwich, or prepare you some elaborate dish. Whatever you'd like really."

It was in her nature to be kind and considerate to others. It was a trait that she always had. It shouldn't be a trait she should have after all the suffering she went through at such a young age. The lupine should be spiteful and yet she wasn't. With the book out of her hand she needed to do something to keep her anxiety in check. Grabbing her fingers she would gently pull and tug in her typical nervous habit. Matteo was the first person to ever ask about her nervous habit. Looking down at her hands she went very quiet. There wasn't an easy way to explain this without possibly upsetting him. She had been doing this for as long as she could remember. A small frown slowly grew on her face as she contemplated just how to answer his question. Shaking her head she continued tugging on her fingers as she answered his inquiry.

"They...um...when they came to hurt me I was told that I couldn't block their hits or dodge them. Of course I would try to block them with my hands. I was really upset and nervous whenever they would come so to keep my hands from blocking, I would do this. Which also helped me stay still or at least in the same spot, but I'd always flinch. When I was a wolf, if I wasn't feral, I would want to attack them to defend myself, you know? So, I mimicked the action a bit, so my front paws would slide back and forth along the ground, to try and not bite or dodge."

After all those years of torment it was no wonder she had developed this habit and never kicked it. It was an innocent question that could only be answered in an honest and depressing reply. There wasn't much she could say after that, that would make him feel any better. One eyebrow was raised as he answered her own question on whether or not the jungle cats would come home okay. That they would come home to her was a good sign, and all she could do was nod mutely. Those blue-grey eyes held a crestfallen gaze as she looked at the cookbook she had set in front of him watching as he began to open it. Just what sort recipe would he be interested in? That particular cookbook had some pretty good recipes although some of it didn't always work. Which is why there were some ingredients marked out and changed, her handwritten notes outlined along the page. Unsure with what sort of dish he would request she stood beside him, waiting quite patiently. As his yes met her own she would listen earnestly to what he had to say. Although his choice of words caught her off guard. Her eyes would widen and her face would turn into a ghostly shade of white. Once again her hands would clasp together, unsure with what to do with this new information. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she stammered and stuttered.

"P-p-arent? Y-o-o-ou mean I'm going to be a Mother? I...we....worry? W-will my child b-bee o-okay?"

The woman could hardly feel her legs as she felt herself sway. Grabbing ahold of the countertop to steady herself she shook her head. Grabbing the stool next to him she sat herself down hardly trusting herself to stand.

Raven Clocksworth.