Sam walked over to the cabin door and stuck his head outside, the snowflakes assaulting him from every direction.
"Deeean", he shouted, having no clue what direction he went.
All he could see was a mass of white, white, and more white, as the snow pounded down.
Sam knew the coming storm would be bad, that is why he suggested they take shelter before it started.
He'd been right, and it was luck they'd found the abandoned cabin.
Sam insisted they stay.
Dean insisted on a fire.
Suddenly he appeared.
Dean.
With an armful of wood, and a goofy grin.