Rhys settled into his seat and continued to nibble on his muffin. He yawned a bit and turned his attention to Cane as the werewolf picked up his thermos of coffee.

“I was born in Macon but moved t’Atlanta when I was in elementary school. I decided t’get into woodworkin’ ’cause I like makin’ stuff, and eventually discovered I really enjoyed buildin’ coffins. So, I took an apprenticeship in New Orleans in my early twenties. I had a few funeral parlors I regularly delivered caskets to, and one day I went into one of the smaller morgues with this… hideous pure white casket, polished so much it’d blind someone if the sun hit it right. I walked into the basement and thought I saw a damn ghost in the hallway,” Cane explained.

“Cas?”

“In all their spooky glory! I was gobsmacked! Dumbfounded! And, ’cause I have one brain cell, my idiotic self blurted out, ‘my, you’d look mighty pretty in this here coffin’.”

Rhys nearly choked on his muffin after inhaling from shock, “You did not!”

“I did, loudly, and Cas looked at me with this cocked eyebrow and flat out told me ‘I don’t look good in white’, and I knew it was all over after that. They were in town on an internship learnin’ how t’handle the business and we started talkin’ and… fell in love. When their internship ended, I was heartbroken, but they invited me t’move out t’the Wood with them and I jumped at the opportunity.

“Their parents were still alive back then, that was ’bout ten years ago, we were both young and tryin’ t’figure life out, but Mr and Mrs Wylder were incredibly generous and acceptin’ of our relationship, of me. I felt welcomed, and things seemed t’be goin’ well ’til one night a group of us were out gettin’ drinks at Monroe’s tavern and, on our way home, one of the Monroe brats bit me,” Cane continued with a heavy, exasperated sigh.

Rhys’ eyebrows furrowed as he took in the information. He gasped with realization.

“Wait, you weren’t always a werewolf?” Rhys asked.

“Nope, and let me tell you it was scary. My whole life felt like it was endin’; my body hurt, my muscles burned and ached, and I got hit with the worst fever I’d ever experienced. I thought I was dyin’… I remember hatin’ the feelin’ of not knowin’ what was happenin’ t’me, what t’expect, and bein’ afraid. The first time I transformed was a blur, but I woke up on the funeral home porch in a half-shifted state with a whole deer carcass in my mouth and Cas standin’ in the doorway lookin’ terrified… and disgusted. I thought for sure they’d break up with me.

“So… all that t’say, I know—in a way—what you’re goin’ through, Rhys. I know what it’s like t’feel like you’re losin’ control of who you are, of feelin’ like your body ain’t right, but you have a support system now and we understand. We, of all people—like you said—understand. So you don’t need t’feel embarrassed, not at all. I become a big hairy wolf for several days every month and eat raw impossible burgers and roll ’round in the mud and slobber all over the nice furniture. You havin’ sweet smellin’ blood ain’t that bad.”

Rhys smiled shyly, “Thank you,” he whispered.

Cane only nodded and returned his thermos to his lips. Rhys went back to his muffin. He was almost upset it was gone, he wanted another but wasn’t sure he was allowed one. He yawned a bit and looked back out the window, blinking slowly as he contemplated the humorous and honest story that Cane so willingly offered up to him.

The carpenter was an open book, he was boisterous and confident, and Rhys liked that about him. He felt comfortable in his presence, felt as if he could be good friends with the chipper werewolf and, maybe some day, his partner if they'd let him. He felt for Cas, for their losses, and wished he was able to get over his embarrassment and lack of self confidence to try and start a conversation. Even if he could, he wasn’t sure they would appreciate it.

Rhys noticed the truck was slowing down, that Cane had turned the blinker on and was pulling the vehicle over.

“Is everything alright?” Rhys inquired.

“I was ’bout to—” Cane quickly set his thermos down and shot his hand out. He caught Rhys’ chest and kept him from hitting his head on the dash as the young man passed out. His body was heavy and Cane’s arm almost buckled from the sudden weight against it.

He sighed and put the truck in park, “Ask you the same thing…”