Adder's reaction was underwhelming. HE clearly wasn't as much a fan of pockets as he was of fuzzy things. Either that or he'd had cargo pants before. But then why would he not have said something? Maybe he had offered pockets for the same reason Cafas had offered colours, just to narrow it down a bit. It didn't really matter, but it was a preference thing.

Win some, lose some.

Red... Pants. Who in their right mind wore red pants? Adder maybe. Well, obviously, he'd chosen it. Cafas wiped the mildly disturbed confusion from his face. "Yeah they're poly-cotton blend, so they dry more quickly, and they're pretty tough. You'll have a hard time doing damage to them. So uh, the red ones are your favourite?" He kept his tone even, no matter how gross he thought that was going to be.

So gross.

It would probably go just fine with the sweater sleeves though, which was alright. Plus maybe he'd get a few pairs and Cafas wouldn't have to always be seeing the red ones. He did need a bit of colour in the outfit, honestly, otherwise it wasn't going to have enough contrast. The black would provide some, but ultimately it wasn't going to go amazingly with the sweater.

Cafas was not happy with the pair Adder had grabbed. He could see that. Why would he offer something he didn't agree with, though? Adder hesitated, pant leg still between his fingertips. What was he supposed to do now? Cafas was talking about all sorts of things that didn't make sense, with words Adder could hear but not make sense of, and he could barely fixate on the ideas of dry and hard to damage. Those were good things, though, so why...?

Red?

He blinked at the pants. Red? They didn't look any different from some of the other ones. He didn't think it likely that Cafas would get mostly shades of red if he didn't think red was good, but then he hadn't thought that Cafas would get red at all if he didn't like red. So...

What was he supposed to do? What expectations he'd managed to form were gone, and now he just felt... lost.

He could ask Cafas, though, couldn't he? That might help. "Aren't pretty much all of these the same colour?"

Aren't they all... Wait what?

Cafas' puzzlement was more than evident of his face as he looked between the clothes and Adder. Realisation took the better part of ten seconds to dawn. He'd never really considered the possibility before, in his defence. He took a step closer to Adder so he could drop his voice, in case the wolf was sensitive about the issue. If he even knew about it. Could he be sensitive about something he didn't know about?

"Um, they aren't, no. Not even close for the most part. Are you colourblind that you know of?" Because it would certainly seem that he was. There was no way he thought those were the same colour otherwise. It made sense, Cafas supposed, given that he was a wolf shifter. Coming without some drawbacks would just be too easy, wouldn't it? Well, maybe if he gained the control to become fully human it would go away, but that was a question for the future.

Probably a question worth asking. Never know, it might just be he's never tried to push that far in the shift. Is that even how it works? Probably not.

Aaaand now Cafas was confused too.

Good job, Adder. Good job. Confusion all around! Like splattering mud on people in the rain. Totally not helpful and also really not something you could just wave off, because the mud would still be there. And the wet.

Some mud smelled really bad, but some was also kind of okay.

This was not the time to be thinking about mud. This was the time to be trying to figure out WHAT WAS GOING ON.

Oorrrr in the time span Cafas used to look hopelessly confused, Adder could think about mud. Yeah. Because that was productive and efficient. But it was what happened, and, like the mud, was going to stay happened.

"Colourblind?" That was not a specific word he knew, but he recognized the parts. Colour and blind. He could see colour!

Well, what he saw agreed with what other people seemed to see for blue and yellow and grey. And he knew other colours existed. But colour didn't mean as much as other stuff, like smell. He could identify things better by scent than by sight anyway, so what did it matter?

Oh, yeah he probably shouldn't have expected Adder to understand that one. The guy clearly had learned everything he knew just from life in general. Being that he was on the street, that was unlikely to include what colourblindness was. Come to think of it, Cafas wasn't entirely sure how it worked. Well, he understood in kind of basic terms, but he'd never experienced it himself, so it was something he could only speak to in theory.

"Uh, yeah. It means you don't see as many colours as other people, I think. Like right now, every pair of pants here is a different colour to me, to the point where I can't actually imagine not being able to tell them apart." Like, at all. How could he imagine not knowing what red and green were, for instance? What would they look like? It was rather similar to imagining more colours than he could see, theoretically he understood the possibility, but envisioning it was out of the question.

Ah man, trying is doing my head in...

"It's not something to be too worried about, in case you were. It's just going to make some things trickier." Cafas shrugged. He didn't see Adder driving too much anyway, and any educator worth their salt wouldn't make it too much of an issue for him in class. It would just be a disadvantage to overcome. The X-man smiled, which he seemed to find himself doing far more frequently in recent months, trying to be reassuring. "So, those ones? We can get you a couple of pairs, and a few more shirts. Don't want you having to wander around naked when you're washing your clothes." Typically frowned upon in schools...

Not see as many colours as other people? "So like how I can smell things that other people don't," Adder said, more statement of understanding that confirmation. If it was like that, then he probably couldn't learn to do it and so avoid the inability he hadn't really noticed previously. Eh, he'd try anyway. It wasn't like the pants looked like they were the same pants, after all, just like... pants of... the same colour.

Room for improvement.

For the meantime, though, pants. "If you don't like the colour, you can pick that part," Adder said, and held the apparently-red ones out.

They ended up hanging there kind of like his face. Naked while... washing clothes? Didn't everyone clean their clothes while still wearing them most of the time?

It did get cold, doing that...

>>"So like how I can smell things that other people don't,"

"Yeah, I guess probably a lot like that." Though Cafas' wasn't sure if that was just Adder having a better sense of smell. Maybe that was part of it? It'd be a bit difficult to ask a dog. Maybe it was like the asparagus thing, only some people could smell it in pee. It was an odd comparison, but it did make sense.

"If you don't like the colour, you can pick that part,"

"Oh, you uh... You picked up on that huh? Sorry. Uh, yeah maybe not red. Which of these colours can you tell the difference between? Let's get you colours you can see." Because it seemed like it would be nicer to know what colour clothes you were wearing. Not that Adder seemed to mind what he wore. Maybe it was just Cafas being over sensitive for him.

Probably totally that.

Cafas motioned for Adder to follow and walked back to the rack of cargo pants, waving a hand across it and hanging the red pants back up. They came in a variety of colours, most of which had no place being pants. But that was for Adder to choose, not him. He'd have to be more careful with his face.

Thought confirmed, Adder set aside the whole colourblindness thing in his head. If he'd been mentally organized enough to have mental boxes, it would have gone in the 'Complete' box. As it was, it went in the mental equivalent of someone else's pile of dirty laundry.

The completeness opened up some space for him to be affronted at the implication that he wasn't expected to pick up on cues from people, and his ears went right back to irritation. "Reading people is important," he muttered. So yes, he had noticed that Cafas wasn't thrilled. People who weren't happy were more likely to do dangerous stuff and less likely to be helpful.

But getting all grouchy himself wasn't going to help with the whole new-clothes-acquisition thing he was doing right now, and if he didn't come out of this with the new clothes then he would have been near people and stared at and suspected for nothing. That was not a good use of resources. He wouldn't be the reason for losing out on this.

Adder pointed to each of the pants in turn. He might as well just say what colour each of them were, and if Cafas saw them differently then he could say so. It wasn't like any of them didn't exist or something. "Brown, yellow, yellow, brownish yellow, blue, black, yellowish brown, greyish, bunch of brown, more black, more blue."

While he spoke, Adder kept an eye on Cafas to see how he reacted to each label.

"I know, I was just... I didn't want you to feel bad about your choice just because it's not the one I would make." He felt bad that he hadn't managed to disguise it better, but he lacked practice. Acting was different to guile, that was something he was starting to learn. He decided not to bother trying, just nodding and shaking his head as Adder listed colours.

Must be a weird feeling, knowing other people can see more colours. How do you even go about imagining more colours?

That was a lot of yellow for the fact he hadn't actually picked up yellow pants. Well, the tan ones, but Adder could see that, he just didn't seem to have the word for it. "The brownish yellow is tan, which is a pretty common colour for pants." Cafas discarded red and green pants as he spoke, trying to make sure he retained the knowledge of what Adder could distinguish.

"So looks like you can't see red and green. Those stripes on the end of your sleeves are red, if you were interested." Cafas wasn't sure he would be. Then again, he probably would be if someone could see things he couldn't. It occurred to Cafas briefly that Adder probably couldn't read his eyes very well, either. Then again, he probably didn't need to.

He can already read body language, it seems.

"Come on, armed with this new information, let's go get you a wardrobe's worth of clothes. And some shoes. Then a phone." Cafas set back off into the shop, picking up and offering things to Adder for inspection, fitting, and decisions.

Adder huffed. Not every choice was the same for everyone, but it wasn't like this was a question of being able to eat something out of dumpster without getting sick, or swimming across a very unpleasantly wide and fast river to escape a bad situation. It didn't even really matter, so why would it matter who made the decision?

Just like it didn't matter if he called the stupid tan pants yellow. It was close enough, just not vibrant. Why was Cafas being so picky? Unless tan actually looked different from yellow to him too. That might explain it. But it still didn't matter. It was just colours.

Stripes? The subject change, and reminder of the sweater (not that he'd forgotten, it was way too fuzzy and snuggly to forget, but he hadn't been actively thinking about it at just that exact moment because he'd been busy thinking about how stupid colours were and how little they mattered at all) cut off the beginning of an annoyed huff and had him actually looking at the cuffs. There were lines, yes. Some of them were red? Was that supposed to be good or bad? Or was it just something that was?

There were lots of things that just were, and weren't good or bad in and of themselves. Or they were both. But lots were neither until something tried to use them for one or the other, or both, or some weird mix.

"Waitwaitwait, what?" What was Cafas on about now. Wardrobe? What was that supposed to mean? And - phone yes, he had agreed to that, but he had not agreed to shoes and he would not. Shoes were horrible and disgusting and gross and crampy and stifling and weird and ruined his balance and it wasn't even like it was cold so he didn't even need the warmth so no. No shoes.

Except Cafas had just gone on his way, and left Adder to scramble after him, trying to keep from being buried.

When Cafas so much as looked at the shoes, though, Adder stopped in his tracks. "I'm not wearing those," he said flatly. Very flatly. Flatter than roadkill, because that was mostly just limp and messy. Flatter than paper. Flatter than paper that had been left on the road in the rain for hours and then driven on over and over and over, and then rained on some more.

His tone wasn't even childishly flat. It was don't-%^&*ing-try-it flat.

Cafas stopped to look at Adder. Was he serious? those were perfectly respectable shoes. What could possibly be wrong with them? Maybe Adder only went in for colourful shoes? Or was that like, the one fashion item he took seriously? On the streets, he knew shoes were like gold, good shoes doubly so. Well, he'd just check what shoes Adder was already...

Wearing.

No shoes? Not even a hint to help Cafas out in the choice. Oh. Oh maybe he meant he wouldn't wear shoes at all. Well, that was patently ridiculous. How did he intend to get into cinemas, or restaurants, or bars? Well, okay, he was probably too young for bars.

Well, this is unforeseen...

"But... What if you step on something sharp? Or someone steps on your foot?" Those things had a habit of hurting, and potentially being debilitating in the wrong circumstances. "How do you keep your feet warm in winter?" There were so many advantages to shoes. Cafas couldn't think of terribly many disadvantages, come to think of it. Reduced sensation of the ground was neither here nor there, and slightly smelling was taken care of by some decent hygiene.

Maybe some light shoes?

The X-man pointed to a pair that was mostly fabric. Not very protective, not like leather, which Cafas far preffered, but certainly better than nothing. "What about those ones?" Adder had to have shoes. It was like, a requirement of society. People without them were weird to most others. Plus, there was that whole winter frostbite issue. Or the sheer number of syringes in NYC. Even Cafas had to be careful, they made some of those needles out of glass.

And now Cafas was staring at Adder's feet. He stood his ground, weight evenly and lightly spread, taking full casual advantage of the grip and sensation he got from the tough skin against the smooth floor.

"I go around sharp things," Adder replied. What did Cafas expect? It wasn't like he was blind. Well, apparently colourblind? But clearly not blind. "And if someone tries to step on me and succeeds, I'll bite them." Also seemed a pretty obvious answer. Cafas' third question made more sense, at least. Cold feet was unpleasant, and could be very, very bad. Especially if cold went with wet.

Still... "Fur is very warm. And when it does get cold enough and I have to be human, then sometimes I'll put things on them. But then I can't run." It was horrible and kind of humiliating. And also it felt weird. He didn't like it one bit. "Would you wrap your hands in stuff and tie everything together?"

Adder barely glanced at the shoes long enough for them to register as shoes. "They're still shoes." He didn't want shoes. "Besides, it's not like the mansion is cold." Rich people had heat. The mansion was super super rich, so obviously it had heat in winter.

"What if you don't notice the sharp thing? What if someone steps on you by accident? What if you bang your toe on furniture. You're risking a lot of injury for the sake of comfort." Cafas kept browsing shoes, because Adder wasn't going to get out of it just by being combative. Cafas was going to find him something. Even if he only wore them when absolutely necessary, he was owning shoes.

He's like a child despite not being one. That's coming from me, too...

"Also, I do put things on my hands. Gloves. Also, why can't you run in shoes? That seems a little odd. I can't get up the same sort of pace without shoes." At all. He didn't get the same impact protection, or grip. Actually, maybe he got too much grip? He certainly couldn't stop as fast, not without tearing the skin on his feet. He had to stagger his braking. Was it braking on foot? That was kind of irrelevant, but it was going to bother him.

I mean, what other verb would you use?

"Look, I know the Mansion is warm, and I know you don't want to wear them, but some things require you wear shoes, so you're at least going to own some, even if you only wear them when absolutely necessary. You may as well be involved in the choice. It's the last thing we need from here, and then we can go get you a phone." Cafas shook his head as a sigh escaped. Why was that becoming such a frequent occurrence? Maybe he was spending too much time being the responsible adult in relationships. It didn't agree with his disposition. He was far too impulsive and impassioned for it.

Adder huffed. It was a very big huff. "Gloves don't tie your fingers together," he retorted, shoving his hands into his new fuzzy sweater's pockets. The softness on his skin was soothing, like finding a blanket that had been abandoned in the sun and rolling up in it.

But why wouldn't Cafas get it? Wearing shoes was way worse than not wearing shoes. "Your feet are probably all soft from always wearing shoes," he grumbled. "Mine aren't." They were sturdy, although not as sturdy as his wolf-feet, and he wasn't going to run around with clunky blobs flopping around on his feet.

Adder stood his ground quite literally. "I'm not going to wear them. What are you going to do, put them on yourself?"

... okay, he'd meant to stand up to Cafas, but he hadn't meant to outright challenge him, but now he had, so now he had to stand behind it.

He really, really hoped that Cafas didn't actually try to force shoes onto his feet. Adder was kind of sure he could get away, but that-

That led to having to avoid Cafas thereafter, and that meant avoiding the places Cafas went, and that meant leaving the mansion, and all the good things about the mansion and Cafas and...

But he still couldn't back down after a challenge, even an impulsive and unintentional one.

Cafas levelled an expression that brooked no argument at Adder. Did the wolf shifter honestly think he was going to get away with being argumentative? How old was he, eight? The X-man made sure to maintain eye contact, so Adder knew just how serious he was.

"You are going to wear them, to whatever I tell you to. I am doing everything I can to improve your situation, and all I have asked in return is that you are cooperative in changing your life for the better." Cafas took a step towards Adder, unintentionally looming over the wolf. The boy had touched a nerve with his rather ungrateful attitude in that moment, to how far out of his way Cafas was going to help him. Some might draw parallels to certain cities.

"I will remind you, Adder, that the last time you took my advice, you ended up with a warm, safe place to sleep, and food whenever you want it, for as long as you should choose to stay. Do not now presume to throw my help back in my face, on the basis of your own ego." Because ultimately, as far as Cafas could tell, that's all it was. His own overdeveloped sense of pride keeping him from adopting something he had gone so long without. In a way, it was perfectly understandable. It didn't get Cafas' gall up any less for its understandability.

"You will own the shoes, you will wear them when told to, and you will remember that I have only a secure and fulfilling future for you in mind when I ask these things of you." Cafas had not blinked since he'd started speaking. He started to realise that, along with how standoverish his posture was, once he no longer needed to focus on words coming out of his mouth. That was unintentional, and also rather like his father when he'd been angry. The way he defaulted to how his parents had been was rather concerning as someone that had been run out of his house by the very people he was accidentally imitating.

Cafas pulled his posture back in check, slumping at the shoulders, eyes taking a prolonged blink, while he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, Adder," His tone had softened with his posture, his unreasonably flaring temper reined in, "I'm not asking you to wear them all the time. You just... You're going to need to wear them for some stuff. That's just how life is, okay? No, I'm not sure why, yes, I know it's dumb, but it is and there's really no getting around that."