Alcuin was equally uncertain as to what to do with himself now that his only tether to the pack had gone away. Stiles and his friends wore their hearts on their sleeves for all to see; his master, on the other hand, most certainly was not an easy read. From what he could tell, his range of expressions seemed limited to disapproval, faint annoyance, or both at the same time. Of course, that was only when he could bring himself to look the man directly in the eyes, which he did not do very often at all. “Yes,” he had been tempted to tell a lie. Were it not for the fact that his belly felt inclined to loudly betray him at any moment, he might have. “I could use a little something, I'm afraid.”
His eyes widened slightly at the thought that he might be expected to put something together. Alcuin wasn't certain what frightened him about it the most; the thought of having to admit that he was worthless in the kitchen, or the potentially disapproving reaction he might get when he did.