Someone You Can Build a Nest In

“These people had rosemary oil?

She cursed out of multiple orifices. These monster hunters had done their research. One of the things she couldn’t tolerate was rosemary. Once a local girl had candied it and fooled her into eating it, and Shesheshen pissed bile for a week.

As it was, her flesh struggled to keep her aloft on her makeshift bones. She needed to eat and gather strength. A fight would not go pleasantly. The last thing she wanted to wake up to was dying.”

This passage introduces rosemary as Shesheshen’s vulnerability while using dark humor to emphasize her non-human physiology. The reference to past trickery by a “local girl” establishes that her wariness of humans stems from specific betrayals rather than inherent misanthropy. The novel also creates dramatic tension through the contrast between her weakened physical state and her desperate need to fight or flee, underscoring that survival is a driving force.

“Shesheshen gave a sweet whine as she scratched along the bear’s scalp, getting behind her ears where she couldn’t reach to please herself. They cuddled together, and Blueberry snacked on the remains of the man who’d paid to kill her.

It was some sort of love. Not the kind of love that made you plant your eggs in someone and turn them into a parent, but a kind of love.”

This scene showcases Shesheshen’s capacity for connection outside human relationship frameworks through her bond with Blueberry. The juxtaposition of tender affection (“cuddled together”) with casual consumption of human remains exemplifies how the novel constantly challenges conventional moral boundaries. The explicit acknowledgment that their relationship is “a kind of love” suggests alternative forms of kinship and attachment that exist outside normative structures.

“The human Laurent fixed his vest, propping his thumbs under the sheepskin collar. ‘That’s what I’ve always said. I’ve lived here for half my life and I’ve never seen one hair from this legendary wyrm’s hide. Sometimes someone winds up missing in a town of four thousand heavy drinkers, and they say it must be a monster. It spares the parents to believe a lie, and…’”

This ironic exchange takes place amid Underlook’s celebrations of the wyrm’s supposed death and reveals how humans profit from Shesheshen’s existence while simultaneously denying it. Laurent’s smug dismissal of the monster while speaking directly to her creates dramatic irony that positions the reader alongside the monster rather than the human. His callous explanation that monster stories are invented to “spare the parents” reveals how society uses mythmaking to sanitize tragedy and avoid accountability.

“Immediately her tissues cycled up to the pathetically thin neck that a human form forced them to have. She spread the broth’s minerals thinly, so that every part of her could start to revive. Every part of her could share in the liquid heat.

The monster moaned, a meager sound. Immediately she dreaded it would give her away.

Instead Homily fetched her another ladle full.”

This passage represents the transformative moment when Shesheshen first experiences care from another human, contrasting with her earlier experiences of consuming others for survival. The description of her body’s reaction to nourishment serves as a metaphor for how kindness can transcend biological differences. The shift in narrative tone from, “The monster moaned,” to Homily’s gentle response creates emotional tension between Shesheshen’s self-perception and Homily’s unknowing acceptance, illustrating The Psychological Costs of Masking and Identity Performance.

“What they feared didn’t matter to her anymore. Perhaps these humans had never met someone with actual compassion, and it repelled them, like rosemary repelled her. She wanted to wrap more of herself around Homily. To grow large enough that this kindly fat woman could be protected inside her. To consume her, without the harm, until all their motions were complementary.”

This passage marks Shesheshen’s emotional transformation as she begins to desire to protect rather than consume Homily. Her metaphorical comparison between compassion and rosemary creates an ironic parallel between what harms the monster physically and what disturbs humans emotionally. Shesheshen’s ambiguous desire to “consume [Homily], without the harm” reconfigures the consumption motif from violence to intimacy, suggesting that genuine connection requires vulnerability and merging of boundaries.

“This plump, adoring woman was related to the gold-plated fish-drowner? The one who’d stabbed and poisoned her in her own home?

It wasn’t possible. Shesheshen’s mind threatened to melt and leak out of her orifices. Every thought she tried to begin dug its barbs into her psyche and refused to leave.”

This revelation creates dramatic irony as readers realize Homily is related to the man Shesheshen has already killed and consumed. The visceral description of thoughts as physical barbs continues the novel’s pattern of expressing emotional states through bodily imagery. This moment fundamentally challenges Shesheshen’s growing desire for connection, creating tension between her newfound affection and her instinct for self-preservation.

“She dove into the depths, grabbing onto stones to anchor herself. She grew more limbs to dig at the mud of the bottom, seeking to bury herself underneath the pool. When she couldn’t get any deeper, she let herself scream.

She screamed until the air bubbles rushed around her so rapidly it felt like the water was boiling. She screamed until her artificial lungs collapsed, and then she coughed the lung tissue out and spat it into the water. One more breath in the rest of her life would be too much. One more pretense of humanity.”

This passage depicts Shesheshen’s violent self-destruction after discovering Homily is a Wulfyre, and it portrays her emotional devastation through physical dismemberment. The visceral imagery, like “boiling” air bubbles, externalizes her internal turmoil while simultaneously demonstrating her inhuman physiology. The phrase “one more pretense of humanity” connects to the pain of masking her true identity, highlighting how Shesheshen attempts to reject her human disguise in response to betrayal. Her ability to physically manifest emotional pain through self-dismemberment creates a literal representation of heartbreak.

“I was just a baby when it happened. Father and Mother used to live in this isthmus, until the wyrm attacked them. Father died, and when Mother tried to avenge him, one of the wyrm’s offspring survived and cursed our entire family line. Our power in the isthmus was to wane, and we were each to die as it waned. One by one. It’s taken my aunt. Soon it’ll come for Mother. And my big brother Catharsis. Eventually myself, and my younger sister Epigram. And the littlest, poor little Ode. This younger wyrm is coming for us all, every bit as vile as the old one. We have to stop it.”

Homily’s explanation of the family curse reveals the central misconception driving the conflict between Shesheshen and the Wulfyres. The passage employs dramatic irony as readers understand Shesheshen is the supposed “wyrm” that cursed the family, while Homily remains unaware she is confiding in the very creature she believes is hunting her family. The repetition of “one by one” and the listing of family members creates a rhythm emphasizing the perceived inevitability of their deaths. The curse functions as a narrative device that binds the Wulfyre children to their mother through fear and shared trauma, exemplifying how family mythologies can perpetuate cycles of abuse.

“The Baroness Wulfyre brought a fingertip down to caress one of the triangular points on her necklace. ‘These? My daughter should’ve told you. They are all that remains of the last Wyrm of Underlook. It had metal jaws, which it used to pierce and bury its eggs in my late husband. Its young killed him, and so I killed it in kind. When I slew it, I tore this out of its mouth in return. I wear this to remind the world that my family conquers monsters.’

The Baroness spat on the floor. The saliva became a shining glob of refracted firelight, quickly losing its shape as it spread apart. Like a body dissolving into nothingness.

Like Shesheshen’s mother had, the day she had died.

That was not jewelry. Around the Baroness’s neck hung Shesheshen’s only memory of her own mother. The steel fangs she’d worn as a prosthetic, to hunt, to fight for her life until it was snuffed out.”

This revelation that the Baroness wears Shesheshen’s mother’s fangs as a trophy represents the intersection of personal and political conflict. The imagery of the Baroness’s saliva “like a body dissolving into nothingness” visually connects to Shesheshen’s memory of her mother’s death, merging past trauma with present rage. The steel fangs function as symbol that represents both Shesheshen’s lost heritage and the Baroness’s dehumanization of those she considers monsters. This moment inverts the novel’s central question of monstrosity, revealing the Baroness’s casual cruelty in displaying her victim’s remains as the truly monstrous act.

“The instant she tugged at the heart, her entire body collapsed to the floor. Half her face melted off, and liquid as it was, it still cringed from the searing pain. She’d never felt anything so severe in her life. She held herself against the bricks of the chimney for support.

What was this physical nonsense? It was her body. She controlled the nerve endings. It shouldn’t be allowed to tell her how to feel. A single organ didn’t command her.”

This passage depicts Shesheshen’s discovery that she has grown an unfamiliar organ around Homily’s suture thread, symbolizing how love has physically transformed her against her will. The vivid imagery of her body “collapsing” and face “melting off” when she attempts to remove the organ represents the overwhelming and uncontrollable nature of falling in love. Her indignant questions (e.g., “What was this physical nonsense?”) reveal her confusion and resistance to her changing nature, emphasizing her loss of control. The organ, which she at first assumes is a heart and which is later revealed to be her egg sac, is a metaphor for how her connection to another fundamentally changes her. This is particularly significant for a shapeshifter who has previously controlled every aspect of her body.

“Spitting this out would ruin the evening—ruin it worse than a gut full of lesions. Wrapping additional tendrils around her elbow and torso, Shesheshen steadied her body. She could not so much as perspire over this. As coarsely as it burned her, as layers of her insides melted from the contact of the stuff, she kept poised.

With her elbow up, she gave the impression of taking a long drink from the glass. Inside her, she grabbed one of those lungs humans liked so much and held the opening of it to the back of her mouth. All the unwanted rosemary poison went straight into the lung, a temporary bladder that, being human-grown, would not wilt from the poison.”

This scene demonstrates Shesheshen’s resourcefulness and determination as she drinks poisonous rosemary wine to maintain her human disguise. The grotesque description of her redirecting poison through repurposed human organs combines body horror with dark humor, highlighting her alienness while creating sympathy for her suffering. Her internal biological manipulation serves as a physical manifestation of her performed identity, as she endures extreme physical pain to maintain appearances. The contrast between her “poised” exterior and melting interior creates dramatic tension while exemplifying the distance between her public presentation and private reality.

“‘I tried to stop them from going at all. I thought I could dissuade Epigram.’ Homily dropped a cloth onto the table. There were dribbles of red on it, like worm holes in wet earth. ‘I didn’t want this.’

Shesheshen couldn’t tell if Homily was trying to show her something, or failing to hide it. The difference was too subtle. She came inside, and Homily scooped up the cloths, hiding them against her body. More of them had those bloody marks.

Shesheshen asked, ‘What happened?’ As Homily threw the cloths into a basket, her sleeve rolled up for a moment, revealing deep purple color around her forearm.”

This passage reveals the scars and bruises of Homily’s hidden abuse and links this with her inability to protect Blueberry despite her desire to help, illustrating how she becomes paralyzed in situations that might trigger her abusers. The bloodied cloths and bruised arm function as visual evidence of the violence within the Wulfyre family. This is described with the simile “like worm holes in wet earth” to suggest decay beneath a seemingly intact surface. The subtle interaction between revealing and concealing—“trying to show her something, or failing to hide it”—reflects Homily’s conflicted desire to ask for help while fearing the consequences of disclosure. Her repeated phrase, “I didn’t want this,” emphasizes her powerlessness within her family’s dynamics, encapsulating the cyclical nature of abuse.

“She formed a lumpy wad of flesh where her foot had been and lurched on it. Without humans to impress, she moved easier.”

This quote reveals Shesheshen’s shapeshifting abilities and the performative aspect of her existence among humans. The juxtaposition between her compromised form when alone versus her human mimicry highlights the pain of masking her true identity. The words “lurched” and “lumpy” emphasize her monstrous aspects, while the statement that she “moved easier” without humans watching suggests the physical and emotional toll of maintaining appearances.

“It was in those questions that Shesheshen started to hurt. It was in her chest again, in that awful organ that she needed to carve out of herself soon. Homily was asking why she’d risked her life. But Shesheshen had to ask, ‘Why did you go out there? No armor. No guards. You could have been hurt.’”

This passage illustrates the growing emotional connection between Shesheshen and Homily through their mutual concern for each other’s safety. The parallel structure of their questions creates a mirror effect, reflecting how they both engage in self-sacrifice. The “awful organ” in Shesheshen’s chest, later revealed to be an egg sac rather than a heart, functions as dramatic irony—her physical discomfort can be interpreted as emotional pain, foreshadowing how her biology will complicate their relationship. This interaction develops the theme of Building Family Through Care Instead of Inheritance by showing an alternative to the toxic dynamics of the Wulfyre household.

“In all the mess of recent days, she had forgotten that human people kissed. This was not how she’d imagined their first kiss. […]

It was another moist orifice pressing into her. A sort of mutually failed cannibalism.”

This quote employs defamiliarization by describing a common human action—kissing—from the perspective of a non-human consciousness. The simile comparing kissing to “mutually failed cannibalism” is darkly humorous while highlighting Shesheshen’s fundamentally different biology and worldview. This passage develops the motif of consumption by blurring the boundaries between intimacy and predation. The description demonstrates how Shesheshen perceives human affection through her own predatory frame of reference, despite her growing genuine feelings for Homily.

“Amid her many freckles, there was the wound Shesheshen had spotted the previous night. It was stained orange with healing poultices and the like, and was beginning to heal. A few crude stitches pinched it together. It was not the only mark on her neck.”

This passage reveals Homily’s history of physical abuse through her scars and wounds. The description progresses from innocuous “freckles” to the recent wound to the revelation of multiple scars, creating a narrative unveiling that mirrors Homily’s gradual disclosure of her trauma. The crude stitches physically embody the imperfect ways Homily has attempted to heal from her family’s abuse. The final line—“It was not the only mark on her neck”—employs understatement to suggest the depth of violence she has endured.

“The thing that had grown inside her wasn’t a heart. It was an egg sac.”

This terse, revelatory statement marks a pivotal moment in Shesheshen’s self-understanding through its simple, declarative structure. The revelation recontextualizes her physical reactions to Homily, transforming what appeared to be romantic love into biological imperative. The egg sac functions as both literal reproductive organ and a symbol of Shesheshen’s potential to create new life with Homily, connecting to the symbol of nests as places of both safety and self-sacrifice. This biological reality complicates their relationship by introducing questions about consent and the nature of Shesheshen’s feelings.

“The pool of flesh rolled out of the trench and toward her, staying low to the ground. It was like a submitting dog, giving obeisance to a master. Like it wanted to be reunited.”

This description of Shesheshen’s offspring employs simile to characterize its seemingly instinctual recognition of its creator. The comparison to “a submitting dog” anthropomorphizes the amorphous creature, suggesting a primal connection between creator and creation. The imagery of submission contrasts with the creature’s earlier aggressive behavior, revealing its complex nature and relationship to Shesheshen. The phrase “like it wanted to be reunited” foreshadows the revelation that the creature is indeed part of Shesheshen herself, expanding the novel’s exploration of reproduction beyond conventional parent-child relationships.

“Then Homily slit her sister’s throat.”

This stark, unembellished statement conveys the shocking nature of Homily’s action through its brevity and direct language. The sentence marks Homily’s definitive break from her family’s abuse cycle, representing both violent rupture and potential liberation. This moment challenges conventional ideas of monstrosity by having the supposedly “human” character commit an act of violence to protect the “monster,” thereby inverting expectations. Structurally, this act represents Homily choosing her found family (Shesheshen) over her biological one, completing her character arc from passive victim to active agent in her own life.

“Homily professed her love by digging a second crossbow bolt out of Shesheshen’s body. It was so much clearer a declaration of affection than any of those speeches spun by poets and playwrights, and stuffed into the mouths of actors who pretended to be enamored. One could only pretend to love in language. True love was a woman sinking up to her elbows in her viscera, delicately removing hooks from her rigid tissues.”

This passage establishes the unconventional physical intimacy between Homily and Shesheshen, inverting traditional romantic imagery. The novel juxtaposes theatrical expressions of love with the visceral act of caring for Shesheshen’s wounded body, suggesting authentic connection transcends words. Shesheshen believes the tending of injuries symbolizes genuine care rather than the performative nature of language-based affection.

“Before Shesheshen’s mind could respond, her egg sac did. Blood spurted into sundry organs as it propelled itself upward, squeezing between ribs, sending searing pains through her chest. Those spines dug into her flesh, trying to surge up to her neck where it could tear its way out of her and get to this humble human woman. It loved Homily in a way Shesheshen could not abide.”

This passage illustrates the internal conflict within Shesheshen as her reproductive instinct threatens her emotional connection with Homily. The egg sac functions as both literal organ and metaphor for destructive urges that must be controlled for her love to flourish. The personification of the egg sac having its own desires creates dramatic tension between Shesheshen’s developing emotional attachments and her biological imperatives, emphasizing the pain of controlling her true nature.

“Homily worried her thumb over her lost fingernail. ‘She was softening me up, like clay.’

‘She does not get to make you change anymore. Not one more day.’”

This exchange marks Homily’s awakening to the manipulation she has experienced at the Baroness’s hands. The simile comparing her to clay being molded evokes the cycle of abuse, illustrating how Homily has been shaped by the Baroness’s control. Shesheshen’s response positions her as protector and ally against continued manipulation, marking a significant shift in their power dynamic and in Homily’s journey toward self-determination.

“When the first flaps of its flesh smacked her palms, Shesheshen cupped them. She stroked her thumbs across the flank of its body. The offspring was warm and clammy, like a freshly plucked liver. She had the abrupt urge to hunt something and share a liver with this little thing.”

This scene depicts the first tender interaction between Shesheshen and her offspring, establishing their complicated parent-child relationship through tactile connection. The simile comparing the offspring to “a freshly plucked liver” reinforces the motif of consumption while simultaneously evoking vulnerability and a visceral connection. Shesheshen’s urge to “hunt something and share a liver” with it reveals her instinctual desire to nurture, challenging simple definitions of maternal behavior.