Grouse Thicket mine, windbag, mine

if she'd asked nicely, maybe Cas would have. he convienently omitted the fact that he'd been the dick in the first place, and arched a mocking brow at the woman. he wasn't hunting, so who gave a shit? also forgetting that he represented Silver Creek, Cas yawned widely, backed away a few steps --- and sat down.

if she wanted a fight, he'd give it to her. for now he watched her with an expression that invited her wrath.

because he is stupid.