He doesn't have an answer to the first question. He ate what he was given and was thankful he was fed.

"Eggs are fine, sir," he agrees quietly.

Castiel nods and pulls one of the cartons out, setting it on the counter. He doesn't move to start cooking though, instead staring warily at the food as if it was some unknown alien lifeform.

"Um. I can. Make them, sir?" Nova offers quietly after a moment. (He's pretty sure he can manage scrambling or boiling an egg.) "No need to. Put yourself to any trouble. Sir."

"Hm?" Castiel looks up, and then glances confusedly back down at the eggs. "Alright. Thank you." Castiel steps back out of the kitchen and moves to stand against the wall, making it easier for Nova to take over.

Nova is still slightly hesitant, but he moves over to the counter. He's definitely not an expert cook, but he manages to make some scrambled eggs without burning them. He's made more than enough for one, but only takes a far-too-small portion for himself, the rest clearly meant for Castiel.

Castiel glances down at the rest of the eggs, and pushes them back towards Nova. "I do not require food. It is all for you."

Nova stares at the rest of the eggs, looking completely confused, and a little bit sick at the idea of that much food.

"You...don't...?" he's definitely confused by the idea of that. (And panicky, because he needs to be useful.)

"No. I am an angel, and we do not require basic human functions to survive. You seem weak for a human, though. You should eat."

Oh. Yeah. That. He'd been...trying not to think about the angel thing. He still doesn't get why he's not being told he's damned by a supposed angel when that's all he'd ever been told before.

He looks at the plate of eggs again. It's far too much for him. He knows it is. But. It's wasteful, and being wasteful is at least as bad as being a glutton. He licks his lips, and starts eating, reminding himself to eat slowly (rushing was ungrateful, and liable to get food taken off him), but not too slowly (dawdling wasn't tolerated, and could have the same result). He barely gets a third of the way through the plate before he's too full. He tries to keep eating (he feels sick). (He keeps darting looks to Castiel, trying to figure out how mad the man's going to be.)

Castiel doesn't move any closer to him, but is obviously concerned. "You're in distress. What happened?"

Nova shrinks in on himself. (He isn't necessarily good at hiding his emotions, but no-one's ever drawn attention to it, not unless they were going to mock him.)

"I. It's. Too much?" He flinches.

"Too much?" Castiel pauses, understanding. "Ah. You mean the food is too much. Of course, that is completely expected. I'm sure your prior guardians did not give you adequate food. You needn't eat it if you are full."

That gets a slightly startled look aimed at Castiel's chest. Nova is still cautious to waste that much food, but if he eats any more he will probably be sick. Instead of pushing himself on the matter, he sets about cleaning up the dishes he made.

(He seems, a little, to be trying to find busy work to do.)

"You don't need to worry about those. Would you like to go outside? If we are going to train, it's best not to do it inside."

He blinks at little, hesitantly sets the dishes neatly on the counter, and nods. "Yes sir," he sounds a little hoarse, and a little like he's worried about what's going to happen.

Castiel leads him outside to where the square they had been in the previous night and turns to him. "Before we begin, do you have anything to ask of me?"

"Why?" he asks before he can stop himself. "-Sorry. Didn't. S'fine. Nothing, sir."

"Ask, Nova. There isn't a reason to hesitate."

"Why're you doing this?" In that is 'why are you being so nice?' "M'damned either way?" He sounds like he honestly believes that.

"Damned?" Castiel seems honestly confused. "You are not damned Nova. And I'm 'doing this' as you say, because its in your best interest, as well as the best interest of the world, for you to be able to control and harness your abilities. If used correctly and wisely, they will be a great asset to you."

He stares at Castiel's knees, trying to make any of that make sense. He takes a deep breath. (It being good for other people he can understand, it was too easy to hurt people if he couldn't control it.)

"I-" he nods. "Yes sir. As you say."

"Good, let's begin." Castiel moves to stand directly in front of Nova. "As you know, an untrained Nephilim like you poses a great risk to others as well as yourself if you allow your powers to run rampant. The best way to combat this is to work first on your concentration and self-control. You need to learn how to tune into your own Grace if you ever want to develop control over your abilities. Close your eyes." Castiel spends the next three hours working with Nova to help him tap into his Grace, as well as practicing his own self-control. He finally calls for a break, and turns back towards the house. "You're doing well, Nova."

He does- not actually know that. (Nephilim? What?) But he's not going to say anything, just nods like he understands.

He's an obedient and focused student - if flinchy when he thinks he's getting things wrong - and definitely seems eager to learn - whether just for the safety of not accidentally setting things on fire, or for other reasons, it's hard to say.

When Castiel calls a break, he's relieved - it might not be the back-breakingly physical work he's used to, but it's exhausting in its own way. "I- uh, as you say, sir? Thank you?" (He has no idea if he is, but he'll take Castiel's word for it.)

"You're welcome. You're picking all of this up very quickly." He was silent as they entered the house, but as they passed the kitchen Castiel glanced over, unsure. "Are you... hungry?"

There's a tiny, tiny smile at the praise, and a faint flush of something that might be pride.

He shrugs at the question. "M'fine, sir," he murmurs - he's already eaten more than he expected to in one day this morning, it would be greedy to ask for more.