SMELLS LIKE DEAN SPIRIT
Challenge of the Week: Mention an animal in your story
The hunt was all going according to plan, then ...
Disclaimer: Don't own, old news, blahblahblah
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The impala sailed along the deserted highway after a less-than-successful hunt.
It wasn't that they didn't find the grave, Sam mused; hanging breathlessly out of the wide open window like a carsick spaniel. It wasn't that they didn't salt and burn the bones, he reflected; sitting as far away from his sulking brother as was physically possible within the confines of the Impala.
It wasn't even that the spirit had hurt them.
Sam sighed, fighting his rising nausea.
No, as hunts went, it had been peachy.
It had only gone downhill on the walk back to town after Dean trod on that skunk.
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