Cara let her eyes tip toward the sky, following the trail that her falcon had chosen. Honestly, she had tried more than a few times to rid herself of the bird, but it seemed he truly was persistent enough to consider himself to be owned by her. She couldn't hide that she was a little reminded of someone by the behavior.
The high tone of something making a rather annoying sound caught her attention though, drawing it away from the sky and to behind her. It was quite curious to see a small creature running after a grown man, but there was nothing that she could derive from the situation that the little thing was a danger.
Dean was usually a manly man who could handle pretty much anything and not break a sweat, but right now, the tiny dog was giving him the creeps. So he wasn't proud of what he was about to do, but he grabbed the hot chick in leather by the shoulders and placed her between him and the small dog.
If she wasn't so curious about what this creature was -- she probably would've broken your arm for handling her in such a way. It was rude and also, she was very capable of administering pain in exchange for the rudeness.
Instead she steps away from him, putting herself in between this... male and the 'Yorkey' that he was informing her about.
"I have never seen one before."
Cara let her head tilt to the side, examining this creature, "This 'Yor-key' is it violent?" Because, honestly it seemed too ... unaware to be violent.
"Not normally, no," Dean admitted sheepishly, letting her move ahead of him and examine the little dog. "In fact, they're pretty much as harmless as they get."
Helen had seen many things in her life. Many creatures that most believed to be fairy tales or myths. Not to mention personal struggles and being moved to El Dorado, and seeing people she thought were long since dead. Most of them had left now, but, what could be said about those? Nothing that Helen felt like saying.
There was one thing, however, she'd never seen in her entire one hundred and fifty-eight years.
It's actually really embarrassing as far as Dean was concerned. He didn't want to be running from a tiny dog. Tiny dogs just happened to be drawn to him like flypaper, and he really, really didn't like it.
When he spotted the woman up ahead, staring at him like he was a nutcase (which he probably was), he skidded to a stop, darting behind her and turning them to keep her between him and the dog.
"A Yorkie is possessed? Are you quite sure?" Helen asked, looking at the grown man behind her (not to mention he was taller). She looked down at the small dog with a bow in it's hair as she tilted her head to the side.
"Well, it's ... something." Dean wasn't quite sure how to put it into words, and he was trying not to make himself look like an idiot. Which ... with this whole spell thing the city had him under? Wasn't exactly working. "I swear they're all out to get me."
Sam was going for a walk. The fangs and craving for blood had gone, but that didn't make him any less frustrated. He had check his room for hex bags and there were none. With them gone, there was no trace of them ever existing. It was strange and his research had come up with nothing. And it was definitely not a very vivid dream, since he had witnesses.
So walking was the next best thing. He hoped it would help him think or at least blow off some steam.
What he didn't expect was to see Dean race past him with a Yorkie in tow. Sam's gaze followed Dean, like as if he was watching a tennis match, and he stood there frowning. Did that actually happen?
Dean glanced back at the sound of his brother's voice over his shoulder, but he didn't stop. No way he was stopping with demon dog on his tail. "That animal's friggin' possessed, Sammy."
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The high tone of something making a rather annoying sound caught her attention though, drawing it away from the sky and to behind her. It was quite curious to see a small creature running after a grown man, but there was nothing that she could derive from the situation that the little thing was a danger.
"What... is that?"
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"It's a friggin' Yorkie."
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Instead she steps away from him, putting herself in between this... male and the 'Yorkey' that he was informing her about.
"I have never seen one before."
Cara let her head tilt to the side, examining this creature, "This 'Yor-key' is it violent?" Because, honestly it seemed too ... unaware to be violent.
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There was one thing, however, she'd never seen in her entire one hundred and fifty-eight years.
And, that was a grown man running from a Yorkie.
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When he spotted the woman up ahead, staring at him like he was a nutcase (which he probably was), he skidded to a stop, darting behind her and turning them to keep her between him and the dog.
"That thing is friggin' possessed."
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"It doesn't seem like it."
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So walking was the next best thing. He hoped it would help him think or at least blow off some steam.
What he didn't expect was to see Dean race past him with a Yorkie in tow. Sam's gaze followed Dean, like as if he was watching a tennis match, and he stood there frowning. Did that actually happen?
Then he ran after Dean.
"Hey! Dean!"
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