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Nesting season is, by far, Jaiden’s least favorite time of year.
The whole… egg-laying thing certainly isn’t the best, but that’s not even the worst part, in her opinion.
Really, it’s the battle of instincts. It’s the fighting between the parts inside her screaming, flock, flock! and the parts screaming danger, danger!
She can always tell when it’s coming on when she notices a sudden uptick in paranoia. The sudden need to hide in her room and not let anyone in, to push everyone away, to keep herself and her— her eggs safe.
Not that there’s anything alive in there. But there’s still that— that intense attachment. She can’t let anyone near them.
It has been… harder to anticipate it since the House came alive, though. She’s always paranoid now. She’s always trying to hide herself away, trying to keep herself safe. It’s not quite the same feeling, but it’s easy to mix them up.
So, she can’t say she’s surprised when these evil nesting instincts sneak up on her. Frustrated, ultimately, but not surprised.
Her fingers are working effortlessly through Jacob’s feathers, with Dash at her side working on his other wing. They’d just been hanging out in his room, when he asked them to help him out with his wings — and, of course, they agreed.
Jaiden loves preening. It’s a show of trust, of love, of care— and she’s come to really like including Dash in it. He’s gotten pretty good at it, even helping preen her a couple times. It makes her a bit anxious, still, but ultimately, she really does trust Dash.
Working alongside him is one of her favorite things, though. He’s gotten way more confident with it, filling the air with idle chatter as he adjusts each feather with care.
It makes her feel so soft inside. Happy.
Jacob’s feathers would be perfect for a nest, she thinks. They’re long, soft, beautiful, and they’re Jacob’s. She would love to line her next nest with them, weave some in and out of the blankets, curl up with them surrounding her and her eggs— pretend he’s there, helping her protect her clutch—
“Ow!” Jacob exclaims.
Jaiden pulls back, surprised. Dash has stopped, too, and they’re just glancing at each other, confused. Jacob’s purr has stopped, and she frowns.
“You okay, Jacob?” Dash asks warily.
Jaiden looks down at her hands, wondering what could’ve happened. But then, she notices…
“Fine,” he grumbles, “One of you just pulled a feather.”
…a long, white feather in her hand.
It’s so soft. So perfect.
Guilt eats at her. It falls from her hands— she can’t just pluck her friend’s feathers, whether she wants them for her nest or not. What was she thinking?
“…Jaiden?” A voice pulls her from her thoughts. Dash is looking at her, concerned. “You good?”
“S-Sorry. Just… zoned out a little,” she mumbles, staring at the feather now lying in front of her on the bed. Her and her stupid bird brain — of course she’d be nesting soon, she can’t believe she forgot.
She… She can’t believe she pulled one of Jacob’s feathers out. What kind of monster is she? She can’t— She shouldn’t be around him when she’s like this. She shouldn’t be around anyone, much less trying to preen her best friend’s wings.
“It’s fine,” Jacob huffs, “Doesn’t even hurt now. Just keep going, ‘s fine.”
Dash shrugs and gets back to work, but Jaiden— Jaiden can’t. She shouldn’t, she hurt him. All for her own selfish instincts.
She picks the feather back up, gently, her fingers running over the barbs. It really would be perfect for a nest — she’s considered it a million times before, lining a nest with an angel’s feathers. Her angel’s feathers. They would provide safety from anything, everything, she thinks.
His feathers are beautiful. Truly, so beautiful.
And it’s so tempting, as she stares at the growing pile of loose feathers that accumulate throughout preening, to take them all, surround herself with them in the coming days. It’s tempting to even take more straight from his wings, tug them free and hold them close, and—
She sets the feather back down, and hops down from the bed. She hardly makes a sound, just the quiet clacking of her talons against the wooden floors.
“Jaiden?” one of them says, and she can’t quite tell who, “Jaiden, where are you going?”
“Room,” she forces out, “Sorry. Just— need a minute.”
She stumbles across the hall, quickly closing her door behind her the minute she gets inside her room.
They’re just… instincts. Impulsive thoughts, even, to humanize it a little.
But to think she would just let that part of her take over, let herself hurt Jacob just for the temporary comfort? Comfort for something that was hardly important — or at least, less important than Jacob himself?
She hates it. She hates how confusing her priorities get— she hates how confusing her thoughts get.
At least, now, she knows what’s coming. She just… has to prepare. With very little time.
Unfortunately, Jaiden does not prepare.
It’s not intentional! She just… never finds the right time for it.
Normally, she’d stockpile a bunch of snacks in the days leading up to it, knowing there’s no world where she’d want to leave her room during the height of it. She’d find recently-used blankets around the house and stow them away for when it’s time to actually build her nest, and sometimes, if she’s feeling particularly brave, she’d ask Jacob to spare her some of his clothes — to which he would only respond with a million questions, and she’d back down before he ever actually gives her anything.
But all that had simply slipped her mind this time around, too caught up in the chaos of the House being… y’know, alive. And all the people that come with that.
There’s always someone in the kitchen whenever she’s trying to gather snacks. And, quite frankly, she’s not about to undergo the sheer amount of questions that she’s sure would get thrown at her with mountains of chip bags in her arms, or fruit, or granola bars, or whatever.
Blankets are a bit easier of a task, but…
She doesn’t have a good excuse for that. She just… hasn’t been gathering any, too busy dreading the inevitable.
And dread, well— Dread is really the only word to describe it. The way it curls around her heart, cold, constricting. She hates how lonely it gets, curled up in her room, she hates that that’s her own fault. She hates that she could solve it so easily if she just… let someone in, told someone what’s going on, told someone what she needs, what she wants.
At the same time, she doesn’t know if she ever could. She doesn’t know if there is a world where that could ever be possible — she just gets so sensitive during nesting. Territorial, sometimes.
Though… as she’s laying in bed, stewing in her emotions, she realizes she still has a way to get the things she needs with little to no questioning.
(…She’s not really sure of the ‘little to no questioning’ part, but she’s pretty sure it won’t be that bad.)
With renewed vigor, Jaiden grabs her phone, and texts Jacob.
jaiden
jacooobbb
…Maybe a little needy. But it hardly matters— her bird brain just wants, and she’s not sure she cares what she has to do to get.
jacob
what?
jaiden
csn you bringme food
and blankets
somany blankets
jacob
can you not get those yourself?
She frowns down at her phone. Yes, she could, but— not without unwanted attention!
jaiden
jacobb :(
jacob
…
fine
jaiden
YAY thankyou :)
She cheers with a happy trill, and waits patiently in her bed for his knocking. It takes a couple minutes, but eventually— there he is!
Jaiden bounds over to get the door, opening it to see Jacob carrying… way too many things. Fluffy blankets are hanging from his arms, and he’s holding so many snacks against his chest. She’s surprised he hasn’t dropped anything yet, but— oh. Yes, he has. There’s a trail of granola bars down the hallway behind him.
“You didn’t have to bring so many,” she says — a lie. It might be a lot of food, but it would hardly last her a day.
“I figured you hadn’t eaten in a while. You wouldn’t have texted me otherwise,” Jacob says, “Now can I put these somewhere before I drop any more?”
“Oh, y-yeah, sorry,” she nods, stepping out of his way. “Just put ‘em on my bed for now. I’ll sort through it all and find a better place.”
He does just that, dropping all the snacks rather unceremoniously onto her comforter. He places the blankets in a stack next to them — they’re all folded up, which is quite nice. They won’t stay that way for long, but she appreciates the gesture.
“What do you need all these for, anyway?” he asks as he places the last one on the pile. Jaiden gives him a sheepish grin — she hadn’t, uh, thought that far ahead.
“…Um, it’s just been a little cold?” she says. It sounds suspiciously like a question, but he just blinks, accepting it.
“Okay,” Jacob nods, “Haven’t adjusted the thermostat at all? You know you can do that, right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she waves a hand dismissively, “I know. It’s fine, really.”
She takes a seat on the edge of her bed, glancing over the snacks he’d brought in. Oh, raisins! She grabs a box of them, shoving a couple in her mouth.
“…Are you okay, by the way?” he asks, after a moment, “You don’t usually just… leave in the middle of preening like that. I’m fine, by the way, if you’re worried about that feather— it’ll grow back soon enough.”
Jaiden blinks. Oh.
She’d almost forgotten about that.
“I’m okay, yeah. I just, uh…” she frowns, trying to figure out a good explanation — one that won’t lead to any more confusion. “I got a little spacey, is all. And accidentally ripping a feather out just… freaked me out, a little. But I’m okay.”
Jacob stares at her a little longer. “You sure?”
She’s not. It might have slipped her mind for a good day or so, but it still doesn’t feel good to think about.
“Yeah,” she says, anyway, “I’m sure.”
Starlings are social creatures, Jaiden knows. They often nest in close quarters, and have communal roosts, gathering in large numbers for warmth and protection.
It’s something that’s always affected her, as a starling herself. She’s always been clingy, desperate for closeness, for affection — falling asleep is never easier than when she’s surrounded by her friends.
But it’s… difficult. She knows this part of her can be a bit much— Jacob always has to pry himself away from her, and she’s always leaning against people, and climbing on them, and she doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like pushing her friends’ boundaries constantly, forcing herself into their arms. But half the time, she’s not even aware that she’s doing it, she just— she wants. She wants.
At the same time, she’s quick to isolate herself. If something’s wrong, she’s almost always hiding away in her room, convinced that if she’s alone, she can’t possibly make anything worse. She can’t possibly upset her friends any more than they already are. She feels impossibly cold during these times, loneliness wrapping around her heart like a snake and squeezing, an ache in her chest that just won’t go away. She hates being alone, but it’s necessary, sometimes. It’s necessary, because if she makes her friends deal with her all the time, then— then—
It’s necessary. That’s all that’s important.
It’s a little different when she’s nesting, though.
Jaiden can feel it now, as she’s adjusting the placement of each and every blanket Jacob had provided her, making sure they’re in the right place. She can feel the aching in her chest, the longing for someone, anyone— yet it’s contradicted by the bristling of her feathers, her wings twitching at every sound she doesn’t make. She can’t let anyone near. It’s too dangerous. This place is hers, and if anyone comes in, if anyone even looks at it—
They can’t. They can’t. Then it won’t be safe. It won’t be safe, it’ll look wrong, it’ll smell wrong, and she just— she can’t let that happen.
She shakes her head, dismissing the thought, and keeps busying herself with making her nest as perfect as it can get. The blankets Jacob gave her are perfect, just the right amount of softness, right amount of warmth— she only wishes they smelled a little more like him.
She can’t help but feel like something’s missing, as she circles her nest. It’s one of her best nests yet, she thinks, shoved into the far corner of her room. It’s not the best spot, though. She can watch her door, from here, make sure no one’s trying to get in, make sure she’s safe, but she wishes she were up higher — wishes she were tucked away in some cavity somewhere. Like the hole in the side of a tree, or something — not that there are a lot of spaces like that in the House.
But her nest, it still— it needs something, and she’s not sure what, but a distressed chirp escapes her. It needs. She needs.
There’s knocking at her door— not very loud, but insistent. Jaiden looks up from her nest, but doesn’t move yet. Maybe if she just doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, they’ll go away.
…The knocking pauses, then continues again. Okay. Maybe this strategy isn’t working.
“Jaiden?” a voice calls through the door— Jacob. She trills, excited, that’s her friend! That’s her flock! “Jaiden, if you don’t open the door, I will.”
Oh. She doesn’t want that.
She stumbles over to the door, feeling a little clumsy on her feet, but she doesn’t open it. She just… leans against it, as if that’ll keep him from opening it. With how light she is, it definitely won’t, but she can hope.
And sure enough, he opens the door, and she squawks in surprise as it nearly pushes her over. Though it comes close, she doesn’t fall— instead, she shakes out her feathers and turns around to glare daggers at Jacob.
Jacob, who doesn’t have a clue what’s going on. Jacob, who— who only looks concerned, his brows furrowed as he looks down at her.
“…Hey,” he says, “Everything okay in here?”
She glares at him a little longer, an agitated chirp escaping her.
He stares back, unimpressed. “That’s hardly an answer.”
Jaiden just chirps again, frustrated — why doesn’t he just get it? She doesn’t want to have to use words. That takes energy she’s not sure she has, more energy than just some birdsong — birdsong that he should know by now, they’ve lived together for so long!
Jacob seems to realize she’s not about to give a verbal reply, and sighs. “…Can I come in?”
No! Nope! She shakes her head furiously, and tries to shut the door on him.
“Wha— Hey!” Jacob catches the door before it can close, forcing it to stay open. She squawks at him, frustrated. “This isn’t like you. What’s going on?”
Jaiden huffs. “Nothing. Go away,” she manages, through gritted teeth.
“Jaiden,” he chastises, “Come on. Give me something to work with, here.”
She just shakes her head again, her wings flapping behind her in frustration.
It’s— It’s not that she doesn’t want him in here. She wants it, more than anything— she wants the closeness, the comfort, she wants the protection he provides. But he’s from outside. And that— That means he’s dangerous. He can’t come near her nest. He can’t. He can’t even look at it, or it’ll be tainted, unsafe.
And he just doesn’t get it. He only recently found out about her, uh… egg-laying. He doesn’t know how she gets during nesting, and she’s not about to let him see any more of it than he has to.
“No,” she says, attempting to close the door again, “No, go away. You’re— no.”
This time, she doesn’t meet any resistance. She catches a glimpse of Jacob’s face — he’s frowning. He’s not distinctly upset, but he’s frowning — before the door shuts with a soft click.
Her nest is safe, and that’s what matters. Her nest is safe, and she’s safe, and her eggs will be safe. That’s the most important thing.
Jaiden locks the door — something she should’ve done much sooner — and walks back over to her nest, flopping down into it.
She just needs to get through this. She needs to keep her eggs safe.
Then, she’ll be okay.
Jaiden gazes down at three pale blue, red-brown flecked eggs, cradling them close to her chest. Her clutch— they’re so beautiful, she thinks, cooing softly.
They’ll never grow to be anything more than just eggs, she knows. But for a moment, it’s nice to just pretend, to get swept away in the fantasies of raising her own chicks.
She’s exhausted. Drained. But so full of love, of admiration— they’re hers. And she just— she—
She wishes she… had someone. To share this with, to show them off to, to…
She’s not sure, really.
She just… doesn’t want to be alone.
It would be nice if Jacob was here, she thinks. In some way. Even if it wasn’t fully him, even if it was just a couple of his feathers, or one of his old shirts, or something.
All she can do is just… coo softly, slowly, mimicking the sound of his purring. It’s the only thing she really has of his, to help herself pretend he’s here, without actually having to deal with… someone from outside.
Jaiden shivers at the thought. As much as she wants Jacob here, it’s… it’s scary. She can’t be sure of her clutch’s safety — she trusts him more than anything, but, but, but.
She doesn’t know. Something in her whispers of a knife, and a brief spell of nausea hits her — but she pushes that thought down.
But then, there’s— there’s knocking.
She’s getting tired of this. Why won’t everyone just leave her be? She’s fine, she just—
“Jaiden?” Jacob’s voice calls, muffled a little through the door. The doorknob rattles as he tries to open the door— but it stays shut, locked. “Can I come in?”
Jaiden doesn’t even bother making a sound, this time, or even looking up at the door at all. She just digs a little deeper into her nest of blankets, holding her eggs as close to her chest as she can.
His knocking gets a little more insistent. She whines, a little — it’s so loud.
“Jaiden, come on! Unlock the door, will you?”
She coos lowly, wrapping her wings further around herself and her eggs. She is not about to go unlock that damn door, not when she has her clutch to protect.
It goes quiet, for a moment. She sighs — he must have given up.
But then, she hears a quiet, “Go ahead, Dash.”
And the door slams onto the floor — she shrieks, her wings flapping open in preparation for flight, but she can’t just leave her eggs, but, but, — as Dash kicks it down.
“Jaidennn!” Dash sing-songs as he enters, his hooves thumping on the wood of her door. She flinches with every step he takes, scrambling to hide somewhere, anywhere. “Oh— what’re you doing over there?”
He can see her. He can see her.
Jacob steps up behind him. And—
They lock eyes.
She can’t move. She’s terrified. Someone’s seen her nest — two people have — she’s not safe. Her nest isn’t safe, her eggs aren’t safe.
Jaiden chitters anxiously, curling her wings around her. What does she do? She— They’re her friends. Her flock, even, but…
“…Jaiden?” Jacob takes a step closer, past the door on the floor— she watches him, warily. Her gaze jumps back and forth between him and Dash.
He stops in his tracks, seeming to… realize something.
“Dash,” Jacob says, and Dash immediately looks towards him. There’s… a series of intense gestures, that Jaiden doesn’t quite comprehend, but all seem to point towards the hallway.
“Huh?” he looks a little confused, at first. But then, “Ohhh. Okay!”
And then— Dash leaves.
And it’s just her, and Jacob, and her eggs— and he still hasn’t seen them. He’s fixed his gaze back on her, now, and they’re just staring.
And Jaiden’s terrified.
“…Hey,” he says, after a moment, “What’s going on?”
She briefly considers the open doorway behind him, wondering how easily she could slip past him, make a run for it— but her eggs. She can’t just carry them with her, it’d be too hard, and she can’t just leave them behind.
She shuffles back in her nest, warbling quietly. Maybe she could duck under her bed? But, no, then she’d be moving towards him, and she’s not confident she could get herself and her clutch under there fast enough, and—
He hasn’t actually… moved, she realizes. He’s just standing there, watching her, wings folded behind his back — and he hasn’t moved.
…Maybe it’s okay. Maybe. Just a little bit.
Jaiden stares at him a little longer, incredibly tense, but eventually… pulls her wings back, a little, revealing the speckled eggs she’s been holding onto so, so tightly.
“Oh,” he breathes.
He looks… a little taken aback. But… he understands, now. It all makes sense to him, now, or at least, she hopes it does.
“…Can I come closer?” he asks.
She hesitates.
…It’s Jacob. He’s from outside, yeah, but… it’s Jacob.
She nods, and pats a spot next to her in her nest.
His movements are slow, deliberate, as he makes his way over to her — she hums in quiet appreciation — and he sits down next to her.
“So… nesting season, huh?” he gives her a grin, small and… awkward. But a grin nonetheless.
Jaiden doesn’t bother responding — she leans against him, shifting so that her clutch lays between the two of them, safe.
He’s gonna keep them safe. She trusts that he will, forever.