A secluded section of the beach, early, early Friday morning
Castiel was . . . still stoned. The gremlin was still on his leg, gnawing a little bit sleepily now. It was a testament to both the endurance of the gremlin and the indestructibility of Jimmy's angel-packed body that the thing hadn't managed to get much further than breaking the skin, but was still at it.
Castiel himself was far too busy enjoying the early morning light, the shape of the waves, the sound of the gray world before the island woke up.
Beautiful. It was enough to make an angel nearly cry.
[ooc: for one -- unless someone happens to be out and about so early Friday morning]
Castiel himself was far too busy enjoying the early morning light, the shape of the waves, the sound of the gray world before the island woke up.
Beautiful. It was enough to make an angel nearly cry.
[ooc: for one -- unless someone happens to be out and about so early Friday morning]