Disclaimer: I own nothing about Supernatural, sadly. No copyright infringement intended here!
A/N: My first little fanfic that actually amounted to anything more than daydreams, lol. Please be nice!
It's cold, and the air is thin this high in the mountains. They're camping overnight, huddled together in a small tent pitched in a hurry to avoid the coming blizzard. Dean's panting lightly and shivering-or maybe trembling, he can't tell-as he sits, propped up by one of the duffles and leaning against the rock wall behind them. He's nursing a bum ankle, bruised ribs and a helluva lot of scratches. Frickin' Wendigo got him pretty good...but at least they torched the sonuvabitch.
Dean's raspy voice breaks the silence between them. "Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"I frickin' hate camping."
"Me, too, bro."