[ from
here. reserved for Reno. ]
White sneakers gleaming in contrast to the dusty floorboards, Dean approached the bar at a snail's pace, hopelessly immersed in his surroundings. It was a taste of something close to home. He was in his element.
And he loved it.
His face seemed to ache the instant he smiled his first genuine smile of the day. Previous shakiness in his bearing abandoned, he swiveled on a chair to allow his restless eyes the chance to roam the features of the tavern that really weren't as captivating as the hunter found them. His wry expression faded as he glanced disapprovingly at himself. These clothes made him look like some overgrown kid who'd taken a wrong turn on his way to the Nerd Convention.