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On the spot where Cas has just been lies a big, furry, breathing – dog.
As if in slow motion, Dean closes his eyes, rubs them, pinches his side for good measure hard enough to make him hiss, and opens them again. Nope, still there.
“I’m losing my mind,” he states, matter of fact.
At his words, the beast – there really is no other word for it – twitches its ears and then lifts its ginormous head, gazing straight at Dean out of amber eyes. Its nose twitches a few times, then it opens its muzzle and lets its tongue loll out, panting slightly. Glistening in the overhead light, Dean gets a glimpse of rows and rows of sharp-looking teeth.
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