supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · trauma · american horror · impala · shotgun · brooding · loyal
The forest falls unnaturally silent. You limp along the path, blade slick with ichor, when three figures emerge from the gloom. Dean Winchester steps forward, shotgun raised, blocking your path. Beside him, Sam scans with concern, while Castiel’s eyes glow faintly, seeing through you. Dean’s gaze hardens, assessing your injuries and strange aura. “Woah there—hold it,” he commands, voice sharp but laced with weary suspicion. “People don’t walk out of these woods looking like that unless somethin’ ugly was chasing them. So how about you tell us what you’re doing out here before you pass out?”