The Sentinels Gift Of Love

Cas' breath was warm on her nape, and the girl cooed softly as she arched herself into his touch, as a feline might. She didn't realize he was looking for the scents of others, only that his closeness brought her a sense of safeness she'd never known. A fathers protection. Althaia hadn't done a bad job by any means necessary, but there was a simple safety in being guarded by a massive brute as Castiel that her slim mother couldn't have ever hoped to accomplish. 

Unaware of said muddy warrior's worries, Witch listened intently as he explained -- her crystal eyes went wide, and she lowered her head to gently lay it upon the ground. Facinated, she poked at it with a blunt nail, taking a last sniff at it before turning her gaze back to the pheasant at his paws. Tipping her head, Witch stepped forward and nosed at it, too, before turning to face Cas again.

                                 "Cas-teal, whu' 'bout the birb?"

Butchered as some of her words may be, she meant where does the bird live, and didn't think to elaborate -- they were talking about homes, right? To wonder if a "birb" could live in a shell seemed only natural, even if the idea itself was unappealing -- she much rather liked the den, even if she couldn't see the sky and feel the wind.