not sure why i didn't like this chapter but it's alright i guess
It's an awkward ride; the heat is on the lowest setting, and for some reason Castiel gets seated between the beige parka named Kwan and one of the grey parkas from earlier. He'd seen the other vehicle with barely anyone in it, but the black parka had seen him look, and had merely shot him a devious grin before pulling her hood back up and barking for everyone to head out.
A tiny spark of irritation ignites in his chest, but it is smothered out as an hour passes, and the sun loses its towering position in the sky.
"How far are we from the Canadian border?" he blurts out, unable to crush the sudden and giddy feeling of being around people bubbling up in his throat. He almost doesn't feel all there; everything is surreal and for all he has thrown himself into human life some things still elude him.
Kwan shifts on his left. "Um, did you not take geography seriously in school or something?"
Castiel cannot help the scowl that slips onto his face. He wants to tell him he didn't go to school; that distance used to have never been a problem of his once upon a time, but he doesn't and just hunches back in the seat, tense and... miserable.
"... We're at minimum eight-hundred miles away," comes the reluctant answer.
That doesn't explain the snow, but he lets another half hour pass. Kwan starts to shift in his seat, and Castiel takes it as a tell that they would be arriving soon.
"What's with all the snow?"
This time, the grey parka answers. "Croatoans can't survive all that well in the cold," she says, like it explains everything.
In a way it explains half of everything.