Aiden had done exactly what he'd promised Wren, and even though the rumor mill seemed to think he was some kind of pedophile pervert, he was keeping his head down and doing what he could. He had secured them a cell, nothing fancy but a small little thing that was isolated enough that Wren's singing and humming and whimpering wouldn't really disturb anyone else, and he'd made it theirs as best he could. Clean sheets and blankets on the beds, although why he made Wren's up he didn't know. Wren always ended up crawling into bed with him, but that didn't bother him much. It was just, with the rumors, he didn't want them to get asked to leave because people assumed he was some kind of pervert or molester. He always slept in clothes anyway, you never knew when you'd have to get up and run, but he was being even more cautious now.
The place was as homey as he was able to pull together though, with their limited resources anyway. Maybe later, when they'd been here awhile longer and were more comfortable, he would see about a few 'extras' for Wren.
Aiden was sitting on the bed in a black sweater and jeans, his booted feet crossed at the ankle and propped up on the footboard, a book from the library in his big scarred hands. When he heard Wren calling, the weird half-hybrid singing, he arched a brow, then sat up, setting the book to the side.
"Wren? You okay?" he asked as Wren practically burst through the cell's open doorway.