"Don't forget Castiel, don't wander off the path, don't talk to strangers and keep your cloak on. Do you have your knife?". "Yes mother" the teenager replied, pulling out his knife to show his mother, given to him by his father (who happened to be the towns blacksmith) on his 16th birthday; made of silver and wickedly sharp, it was castiel's pride and joy.
"Castiel do be careful, there is talk of another body having gone missing". Over the past few weeks corpses had been found in the woods, mauled with most of their organs torn out and by the look of it, the work of a large wolf. Castiel nodded grimly before plastering a large smile onto his face so his mother wouldn't fret. "Fear not mother I shall return before nightfall". "See that you do, and don't let your grandmother keep you for too long, the days are getting shorter and winter will return soon". Castiel bid his mother goodbye, grabbed his red cloak and began to walk towards the tree line, basket of supplies in hand.
As the youngest of four brothers castiel had been tasked with the job of delivering supplies to his grandmother, who lived deep inside the large woods, whilst his older brothers chopped wood in preparation for winter, which, as his mother said, would he upon the small town soon. Castiel didn't mind his task, he liked his grandmother as she always made sure to tell him old lores about vampires and witches and the likely hood that castiel would suffer terribly in his future as when born, he came out feet first, had the eye colour of a blind man and coal black hair. Castiel paid the old woman no heed but still found excitement in the tales his grandmother told him.
As he passed under the looming treeline, Castiel readjusted his basket and pulled his blood red cloak closer to his body, mere moons ago when the colours of autumn painted the woods, Castiel had blended in when wearing his cloak but in the new frost, he stuck out like a sore thumb and yet his grandmother insisted he continue to wear it for protection and so it stayed on.
Castiel was a good hour into his journey and had stopped to eat when the forest silenced. Most would tell you that the forest is always quiet but Castiel, who preferred the trees to the town full of villagers who whispered their suspicions about him behind his back, would speak of the chirping of birds, the rustling of rabbits and deer and the distant cries of foxes and how the forest was never truly silent. Until now.
Castiel pulled out his knife out and moved to gather his things. The sound of a large branch snapping had Castiel straightening up and whipping his head around to find the culprit. After a few more moments of silence Castiel made a move to set off in the opposite direction but after a few paces, found himself colliding into something warm and solid. He quickly stepped back and raised his blade in defence to asses the danger he was in. In front of him was a man sprawled on the floor. The stranger, groaned and pulled himself up before zeroing in on the blade Castiel brandished and holding his hands up in surrender, leaf green eyes widening in surprise.
"Woah easy there boy I ain't gonna hurt you" the man spoke quickly in a deep, rough accent. Castiel almost snorted at the absurdity of the statement as the stranger was a good few inches taller than himself, well built, dressed in a hunter's attire, at least four years Castiel's senior and looked like he could've easily overpower Castiel in a heartbeat.
"I'm not a boy" Castiel muttered stupidly as intellect had abandoned him when leaf green eyes flickered upward to meet his deep blues.
"No? Then what are you? A fae? A spirit?" And then a little quieter and with mirth. "An incubus?" Castiel flushed at the last comment and searched his mind for something witty to reply with.
"I'm a man" he retorted and stood up straighter as he watched the stranger snort in reply,
"a man eh? Are you certain? You still seem to be in boyhood".
If possible Castiel got redder as it was true that he did look younger than his years and still held to childlike features that most his age had shed. Sensing no obvious danger, Castiel lowered his knife.
"Do you have a name, boy?" The stranger asked in a playful tone put emphasis on the last word.
"Castiel" Castiel found his mouth opening in answer to the hunters question before his mind caught up. "What?" The stranger looked confused,
"My name is Castiel not 'little man'" Castiel said with an edge of annoyance in his tone.
"Nice to meetcha Cas, I'm Dean". Castiel shook Dean's outstretched hand and was shocked to find it a good deal warmer than the light attire Dean wore would've suggested.
"Hmmm, and what brings you into the woods on your own?"
"I have to deliver supplies to my grandmother who lives in the woods, and you?". Something flashed across Dean's face but was gone before Castiel could decipher what the look meant.
"Checking for traps" Dean said, gesturing to the rabbits that were strung around his waist which of course drew Castiel's attention to Dean's trousers and what lay under them, Dean smirked as if readings Castiel's thoughts and Castiel flushed and awkwardly cleared his throat.
"It was pleasure to meet you Dean but I'm afraid my business demands I be elsewhere".
"The pleasure was all mine Cas and I hope we meet again". Dean smiled widely before allowing Castiel to return to the path.
"Goodbye Dean" Castiel doubted he would see Dean again but didn't want to mention anything. Castiel quickened his pace and didn't turn back. If he had he may have noticed the hunger in the hunters eyes as he eyed castiel's form.