A Lich of Sense 2

"Whoa!" Dean cried out as the little person shot off into a small, green blur. Reacting instinctively, one hand wrapped around Sam so he couldn't knock him off by accident as he lunged towards the other person. His hand swept downwards in an arc that Dean hoped was timed correctly to catch the speedy green blur without harming the little person.

He was in luck. His right hand curled around the little figure, pinning the delicate green wings to his sides. Dean closed his fist, careful to not squish him as fingers the size of the little guy's body secured him to Dean's palm. His other hand dropped away from Sam as he lifted up the hand to his face, carefully opening the fingers enough to see inside.

Bowman winced, loathing the awkward angle his wings took with the human's hand closed around them. Honestly, he was amazed they didn't snap right then and there. He struggled fearfully against the human's grasp, only becoming even more vigorous as the fingers around him loosened. He was trapped in an unknown human's grasp. That was never good. Bowman's heart was thudding a mile a minute, and his wings twitched like mad in the cramped confinement, unable to carry him to safety.

The moment Sam was free of Dean's encompassing, protective grasp, he pulled himself to a stand, resting a hand against Dean's neck for balance. "Don't hurt him, Dean," he muttered up at the ear above him, knowing how easy it would be for Dean to make that one mistake. Dean was used to being careful around smaller people, but this guy was scrawny compared to even Sam. And those bizarre, almost leaf-like wings were delicate; Sam could see them shifting minutely in the gap Dean allowed with his huge fingers.

"I know what I'm doing," Dean shot back down, though he loosened the fist a little more. He could actually feel the occasional pulse in those wings as if they were trying to to flap, trying to fill with air and deliver his captive out of reach. It wasn't going to happen. He held the hand near his eyes, peering in. "Ready to talk, bud?"

"T-talk about what?! " Bowman snapped immediately, though a lot of his defiance was cancelled out by the fear in his tone. This human has insane reflexes! Bowman hadn't been expecting that at all. And now, thanks to his complacency, he was captured. Surrounded on all sides by a hand that could easily crush him on a whim. And the only view outside his enclosure was taken up by an intense, green-eyed glare that sent a shiver of intimidation down his spine.

"What you are, for one thing." Dean tilted his head, observing his small prisoner. Vivid green eyes glared back at him, made even more vibrant by the contrast with his brown skin. And that wild tuft of green hair ... this guy definitely had the market cornered on the forest fairy look.

"Look, it's not my fault if some human trips on something or provokes an animal and gets bitten," Bowman grumbled evasively, unable to keep eye contact with the human that held him captive. With his wings pinned around him like that, he could hardly move his arms to push against his restraints. "Y-you're gonna break something, you giant idiot!" he insisted, trying to kick at Dean's fingertips as if he'd be able to pry them away.

Dean contemplated his hand for a moment, adjusting the fingers so they weren't clenched around the tiny wings. Now he was holding the little guy pinched by the waist, suspended in midair. But the wings were freed, fluttering weakly before falling slack over his hand. He didn't want to harm the little guy unless he was certain he'd done something, but he definitely wasn't going anywhere until they got some straight answers. And with wings like that, it wouldn't be easy to keep him in one place. If Dean hadn't timed his swipe just right, the little guy would have slipped right through his fingers and escaped into the woods. For all they knew, he could have the answers they needed about the case.

Bowman put his hands on the fingertips clamped around him, trying to pry them apart. He knew the drill--he'd never have the strength to move the human's hand if he was determined to hold him in place. The finger and thumb compressing his ribs were more than enough to prevent his escape. But Bowman didn't want to make the guy think he'd simply given in to being handled this way. He kicked and struggled against the human’s vice-like grip, sending his best glare to the giant face in front of him.

Sam's steady voice broke in, interrupting Dean and Bowman’s silent back and forth. As impressive as it was that this stranger could match glares with Dean, it wouldn't get them any further in the case. "We're not talking a few bites in the woods. There have been hikers eviscerated. Organs missing from the bodies..." he gestured towards the blood. "Blood drained from some." He gazed at the small, struggling man with his expressive eyes. "Any help we can get would be appreciated. People are dying." He ignored Dean's quiet scoff, knowing any help was better than no help.

Bowman winced as he imagined the gruesome things that the man described, images working their way into his head despite himself. He couldn't think of an animal that would do anything like that. Even the local wolves were only as vicious as they needed to be with their prey. He got a sinking feeling in his gut that there was much more to this than some rabid animals and a dark aura in the woods.

But if these guys were going to hold him back like this, he had no reason to trust anything they said. Who knew what they could be thinking; Bowman didn't even know what the smaller man was. "So sorry to disappoint," he answered through gritted teeth. "But I don't know anything about what might make an animal do that. Dying's a part of life, y'know," he twisted uncomfortably in the grip around his middle, wings twitching in agitation. "Sometimes the predators win. Just tell people to stop coming around here, maybe that'll fix your problem and mine at the same time."

Sam crossed his arms, watching the little guy's pointless struggles. A bit of guilt trickled through him at the sight of how hard he was trying to squirm himself free of the unrelenting grip. Sam might not be the one holding the little guy against his will, but by not telling Dean to stop he was silently endorsing it. He knew very well how strong Dean was compared to someone his size, from personal experience with that same fist a few times. "That's not gonna happen," he pointed out. "The more you tell people to stay away the more likely they are to go there. Which is where we come in."

Dean arched an eyebrow at the guy. He never acknowledged the tiny struggles or gave an indication that he even felt them. "Not to mention whatever this thing is that we're tracking, it could easily be dangerous to someone like you. You have friends, family? They could all be in danger right now."

Bowman scoffed, and mirrored Dean's expression with an arched eyebrow of his own. "Are you joking?! " he asked exasperatedly. He even paused in his struggles to keep his glare focused on the human. Clearly, the guy was trying to appeal to Bowman's sense of camaraderie with his fellow sprites. As if the biggest danger to any of them wasn't staring Bowman in the face, keeping him trapped in two fingers with no effort at all.

"Even if the animals weren't acting crazy, they're always 'easily dangerous' to someone like me," he snapped, making air quotes with his fingers and deftly avoiding a direct answer on the presence of more sprites. He scowled and resumed his attempts to wriggle free. Bowman opened up his wings to slap them defiantly on Dean's hand, even knowing they would be ineffective.

"Honestly, the biggest danger to me right now is a certain gigantic oaf and his little wingless sidekick!" he grumbled. "Let me go! "

Dean curled his hand further around the little guy, curtailing his constant struggles. The look of surprise and the tiny hands pushing against the incoming restraint did nothing to slow him down. All that was left free was the delicate little wings while his other limbs struggled fruitlessly against a strength he could never hope to match. "Big words from such a little guy." The growl in his voice got the little green eyes to widen in intimidation.

Sam winced a little at the sight of the little guy being completely trapped in the fist. He knew exactly how that felt right down to the desperate need to struggle despite it being pointless. He slapped his hand against Dean's neck to get his attention. "Dean, aren't you being a little harsh on him?"

"He's out here, right next to a blood trail. We can't take any chances." Dean tried to look over at Sam but his brother was too close to his neck. With a sigh, he turned his attention back to the little guy he had trapped. "I'm not planning on hurting you," he pointed out. "But you're staying with us, fairy-boy, at least until we know what's going on here. For all we know you're the cause."

Bowman huffed in pure frustration. Humans and their constant nonsense calling him a fairy was as annoying as it was predictable. "I am not a ... wait, what?! No! I am not staying!" Bowman protested, redoubling his squirming as a small flutter of panic lit up his heart. Not this again. He was trapped on all sides by the human's strong hand, and Bowman felt completely helpless against the words that had just brought dread into every nerve.

His wings, now that he couldn't tuck them safely to his back, were sticking out at a bit of an odd angle. Not painful, but definitely uncomfortable and irritating and nerve wracking all at the same time. They beat weakly against the human's hand, barely brushing his thick skin like little leaves, as Bowman's struggles became more desperate. His breathing quickened in spite of his attempts to remain calm.

"I didn't do anything! So you found me in some plants, well, here's some gossip for ya, I belong in the forest, so it shouldn't be that much of a shock." Don't take me out of the forest, he thought behind his snarky words. Bowman fought against the human's grip, but could do nothing. He knew he shouldn't tire himself out like this; the man would have to let his guard down sometime, and then Bowman could be out of there. If he played this right, he wouldn't have to be forcibly taken out of his own home, possibly never to return.

Sam was watching it all spiral out of control. The little guy was freaking out, practically hyperventilating in Dean's fist. The wings rustled loudly as their frantic motions accompanied the desperate struggles. "Dean, let me talk to him. You're just making things worse."

He stood there, staring solidly up at his brother's profile until Dean relented. Dean's free hand lifted up, coming to a rest next to the shoulder Sam was standing on. Sam stepped on, not bothered a bit by the massive fingers arched around him. Dean held his hands next to each other, keeping a solid grip and a steady stare on the little guy.

Sam squatted down, putting himself at the same eye level as the strange winged man. Those leaf-like wings flailed uselessly against Dean's thick skin. "Hey," he started. "Calm down, okay? You're safe here. Dean's not gonna hurtcha, he just can't let you go until we know what's going on. We can't afford to put anyone at risk until we know what's going on here." He put a hand on his chest. "My name's Sam. What's yours?"

Bowman's eyes, wide pools of bright green like leaves with the sun behind them, met Sam's for a second or two. His struggles waned, until his wings stopped moving to hang limply out of the human's grasp. He still squirmed uncomfortably and his wings twitched once or twice, but the motions were a little more resigned now as he focused on what the smaller guy... Sam... had said to him. "I'm ... I'm Bowman," he answered cautiously, his brow dropping into a perplexed frown.

He really couldn't bring himself to completely give up his attempts to break free. Giving in like that, even against an unstoppable foe, just felt wrong. It was strange and unfair that he was stuck there, trapped in one of Dean's hands, while Sam casually sat in the other, completely trusting the human not to drop him. Bowman had human friends he trusted like that, but that had come about after a lot of hard work on their part. What was Sam and Dean's story? What was Sam?

Bowman abruptly turned his glare on Dean again. "Maybe you didn't hear me very well before ... I. Didn't. Do. Anything. So let me go, human, and you can go on your merry way provoking wolves. Did it ever occur to you that maybe, the fact that a bunch of humans were around made them feel threatened? Life has a certain balance, you know."

Dean glared right back. "It ever occur to you that if you actually did it, you might be lying to us? I'm definitely going to take your word for it, short stack," Dean said sarcastically. He could feel Sam's eyes on him, silently judging. "Well, it's true, Sammy."

Sam sighed at that. "Yeah, I know." He turned his attention back to Bowman. "Look, I know Dean can be a lot to take in all at once. But he really isn't going to hurt you, honest. You can relax a little." He pushed against his legs, going back to a stand on the hand while he switched into a questioning mode he'd picked up from Dean while sitting in his brother's pocket as Dean talked to vics.’ "So, Bowman... have you seen anything odd in the forest? Out of place, maybe whatever left all the blood? The sooner we figure out what's going on around here, the sooner you can leave."

Bowman looked up at Sam, unable to ignore the fact that he'd placed himself above Bowman’s eye level. From this angle it was especially easy to see that Sam was a bulky person ... if he were human sized, he'd be terrifying. Bowman wasn't sure why he was trying to sound so polite. He was party to this whole thing, same as Dean. "Are you both hard of hearing?" Bowman asked, exasperation in his voice and eyes. "I already told you I don't know a thing about humans getting attacked. I’m not their caretaker."

He shifted in Dean's iron grip, thinking he might catch the man by surprise and at least free his arms. It didn't work. The sprite huffed in frustration. His ribs were beginning to ache where his arms pressed into them. "The only odd thing I've seen around here is you guys," he added with a scowl. "Even the blood isn't that weird. Sometimes animals wander a long time before they actually die."

Bowman considered telling them about the strange feeling that he'd noticed in the air. It had faded now that all of this excitement had disrupted the area, but Bowman was sure now more than ever that it had been here. And he wanted to get away and warn the others as soon as he could, before finding the source. But, if Dean was going to be suspicious of him, then two could play that game.

A crunching in the branches behind them caught Dean’s ears. He twisted around, curling his fingers up around Sam so he wasn’t knocked off. There was nothing there, sunlight still streaming through the canopy, brightening the world around them.

The hair on the back of Dean’s neck rose. Some unknown creature could be stalking them right now and he was defenseless, both of his hands occupied. “Sam, you might want to take cover,” he muttered down at his brother.

“What is it? Is something out there?” Sam said, keeping his voice low to match Dean’s.

“Not sure. You mind hanging out in the pocket until I know what’s going on?” Once he got a nod from Sam, he tucked his hand into the pocket, letting him slip to the bottom. “As for you…” he said to Bowman, who glanced once at the same pocket with cynicism written in every one of his features.

That was all he got out. A low growl rumbled through the area, right behind Dean. He whipped around, keeping the hand secure around Bowman. The first thing he spotted was the sharp, keen eyes, glaring at him from behind a snout full of sharp canines. “What the…” Dean muttered in surprise.

A nasty stench hit them, full of the stink of a rotting carcass. Withered flesh covered the wolf, fur scattered in patches. Dean gagged at the scent, taking a step back to recover. The creature took a slow step forward, lips curling up in a snarl. Its paw sank into the underbrush, spreading the decay and killing off the plants it landed on. Blackened ground was left behind, withered husks crumbling into dust.

Bowman's head spun from Dean's swift whirl, and he groaned from the rapid transition. How could something so big be so blasted fast? Even so, he couldn't ignore the wave of odor that washed over the three of them, and he focused his eyes on their assailant. A choked sound escaped his throat at the sight of it. Wrong, wrong, wrong, echoed in his head as he beheld the thing.

"Oh, Spirit, no." It was an affront to everything Bowman revered as a wood sprite. The wolf should be dead. It should have stayed dead. Bowman shuddered once as he felt that heavy, disgusting presence hanging in the air again. The foul energy filled the air all around the wolf. That and the small plants dying, some leaves barely bigger than Bowman himself, were clear evidence of how terrible this was.

All of Bowman's instincts were shrieking at him to fly high in the air to avoid the predator, and avoid that strange feeling that wafted off of it. But, trapped in Dean's hand, all he could do was nervously flap his wings a few times. He knew that if Dean bolted, the wolf would give chase, and it would catch the human. Even with all that rotting flesh, a wolf was faster than a human.

His last option made him wince.

Bowman was not very well-practiced with even the simple Prayers. But, if there was ever a time to plead with the Spirit for help, this was it. "Earth Spirit, L-Lady of Life, w-we beseech you for b-balance, to right what’s been wronged," he stuttered out, keeping his eyes on the wolf. It was a very major Prayer, one that would surely get Her attention. But Bowman had no idea whether the energy would be able to correct this atrocity, and whether he was even strong enough to convey it.

Dean took another step back, keeping space between himself and the wolf. It let out a rippling growl, matching him pace for pace. It knew he couldn’t run. The decay spread with it, killing off the small plants on the ground and the insects in the air. Dean felt his own lips curl into a matching smile as he bared his teeth at the wolf, disgusted by the waste the creature caused.

This was the first time he’d ever run into an undead animal. Normally the undead were summoned by humans, picking people they knew or wanted to use. Why someone would want to reanimate a wolf… already an uncontrollable creature, born to freedom and the wild was beyond him.

A small voice came from his hand and Dean saw Bowman mumbling to himself. What it was ended up lost to Dean’s ears, washed out by the adrenaline thudding through his veins and the creature’s snarl. It crouched for a second, then leapt into the air, teeth aimed for his jugular.

Dean dove to the side, barely out of the undead wolf’s reach. The wolf hit the ground, stumbling in surprise. It whirled around, bristling. “Nice shot, Frankenweenie!” Dean goaded. He had his handgun out in an instant. Since they’d suspected a werewolf, it was loaded with silver bullets. The silver might not matter with an undead creature, but a bullet through the head should take it down.

Sam, on the other hand, was hanging on for dear life. He didn’t usually stay in Dean’s pocket during a fight because of the danger of being crushed, but this time there was no other choice. Loud, angry growls filled the air, making it sound like Dean was surrounded.

The entire pocket swung to the side, making Sam hold on even tighter. He hoped Bowman was alright out there. He really didn’t think the little guy had anything to do with this case, but he had to agree with Dean. Finding him right at the trail of the creature they were fighting didn’t look good.

A loud shot rang out overhead, almost enough to make Sam’s ears bleed. He clapped his hands over his ears too late to do any good. A growl followed, followed by more snarls. Crashing in the bushes, dying down in the distance. Loud swears escaped Dean. “Dean, what’s going on?” Sam called up, confused. If only he could see!

Bowman coughed a few times, overwhelmed by the stench of the wolf, lingering even after it had run away into the woods. His Prayer had barely been enough to make the thing stumble and miss its mark. And he was still exhausted from it. Not to mention that in his swift movements, Dean had dragged the sprite along for the ride. At times Bowman was squeezed in his fist just a hair too much thanks to the adrenaline rush, and with the wolf to deal with he hadn’t noticed.

Bowman slumped in Dean's hand, breathing as deeply as the firm grasp around his body would allow. His ears rang, and he was quite sure he'd be unable to hear much of anything for a few minutes at least. The last time he'd been around a gun, he hadn't actually heard it fire. It had only been explained later how loud they could be. The descriptions didn't do it any justice.

Bowman hesitantly looked up at Dean, alarmed by the look on his face. The lingering snarl from the short fight made the human look all the more intimidating. Bowman averted his gaze and weakly resumed his struggles, wanting now more than ever to escape before the man attracted more terrifying atrocities. He also couldn't help but feel like the wolf's timing, attacking just after he was captured, would not look good for him in the eyes of this already suspecting giant.

Dean panted as he watched the wolf escape into the forest. It left behind a trail of dead plants, spaced apart by the length of its strides. There was a brief period where the decay would spread but it stopped after expanding to a diameter of six inches around where each paw touched down. It would be easy enough to track later.

The adrenaline started to wear off, leaving him on edge and jittery after the attack. Dean shook himself off, trying to clear his head. He tucked his gun back into his pants. There was no way he'd be able to give chase with Sam and the odd little Bowman with him. Speaking of...

Dean held Bowman up to his face, causing him to wince from rising so fast, and glared at the little guy. "What the hell was that thing, Tom Thumb?" After all, the little guy was skulking around the same area the creature was, right before an attack.

The question all but barked at him almost didn't make it into Bowman's head, thanks to his fuzzy hearing and the disorientation from being whipped around so fast. But, eventually he worked through it, and scowled at the tone of voice Dean used with him. Like it was Bowman’s fault.

"You want my first guess, or maybe we should sit around and brainstorm on it?" Bowman snapped back, his voice coated in all the sass he could muster. His wings fluttered in agitation and he rolled his eyes. "It was a wolf, you idiot. What was wrong with it is a much better question."

He squirmed in Dean's hand, trying to pull himself free and get away from that heavy glare. "Before you ask, no, I don't know the answer," he grumbled, giving up on his escape efforts for the moment. He was just so worn out. Even his wings felt heavy.

“Yeah,” Dean muttered. “There was definitely something wrong with that thing.” He side-eyed Bowman for a minute, taking note of the way he was slumped down.

Sam listened to the voices outside, realizing the fight was over. Had Dean forgotten him in here or something? He kicked the side of the pocket he knew was resting against Dean’s side. “Hey, asshat! What’s going on out there? Is it gone?”

The world rocked around him as Dean shifted in place, huge fingers slipping into the pocket with Sam. Used to this, he stayed motionless, letting the long fingers coil around his body. Dean carefully pulled him out into the light again, unfolding his fingers the moment Sam was in the clear.

“Still in one piece, pint-size?” Dean asked Sam, scanning him for any sign of injury after his time in the pocket.

“I’m fine, Dean. What the hell happened? I could hear the growling and got tossed around a lot, but I couldn’t see out.”

“Some kind of Frankenmutt, from what I saw. Nasty, reeks of decay and fast.” Dean shook his head. “I’ve never seen or heard of anything like it. Usually when I hear about zombies, it’s humans being reanimated.”

Bowman made a disgusted face at the thought of dead humans rising again. It sounded terrifying, though granted the wolf was an awful sight, one he'd have a hard time forgetting. What exactly did these guys do to put themselves into regular sight of reanimated human corpses?

Forcing life back into something that had died shouldn't be possible. But, he'd definitely just witnessed it. And, by the effects that wolf had on the plants and bugs around it, such a thing would definitely wreak havoc on the sprites if it found them. Bowman needed to get away from Dean so he could warn the others, but he sure as sunrise didn't want to tip the human off to the existence of more sprites, more people he could grab and yell at.

"Wellll, it's been fun, guys," he began, struggling again despite how completely pointless it was against Dean's strength. His wings stretched out behind him, quivering a little from his exhaustion and leftover adrenaline. "But with things like that following you around, you should probably get out of the forest, huh? In the meantime I'll stay up high, well out of reach of abominations and walking dead wolves." He couldn't resist the catty insult, and he leveled his glare on the both of them in turn.

Dean barely noticed the tiny glare. "You ever get tired of wasting your energy, small fry?" he snarked at the little guy. But honestly. The little wing slaps against his hand were barely noticeable. They might do something against Sam, but even Sam was bulky and built compared to Bowman. He was wearing himself down for no reason.

"Besides, until we're sure you've got nothing to do with the undead wolf apocalypse, you're sticking with us." Dean examined his body, searching for a place to put Bowman while they traveled. "We need to regroup, see if can find anything about undead animals in the lore. Sam, you mind keeping an eye on him till we get back to the room?"

Sam couldn't help wondering what Dean had in mind. "Sure. But where...?"

He stopped when Dean shifted the hand holding him, opening up a side pocket. He realized exactly where Dean was going with this.

Bowman paused in his weak movements to follow their gazes. He stiffened when he saw the pocket Dean was holding open. It looked like there would probably be enough room in there for himself and Sam, but that wasn't what he was worried about. He worried about the fact that they really did intend to take him with them, and with a human involved that definitely meant out of the forest.

Out of the only place he knew.

"Nonononono, you are not going to make me go in there," he insisted, trying again to squirm free. He didn't care about Dean's derisive comment. He knew this was only serving to wear himself out, but Bowman would rather be tired than complacent.

He'd been in the area by pure coincidence. But he could tell by the resolve on their faces that he wouldn't convince them of that. Bowman couldn't stand the thought of being trapped for any amount of time on this human's person. Panic started to seep in, and the adrenaline made his trapped arms and legs feel like jelly. Bowman's options were dwindling fast.

“You’re not getting much of a - OW!” Before Dean could move the little guy very far, Bowman leaned forward and bit the thumb in front of him as hard as he could. Tiny teeth latched onto him in Bowman's desperate attempt to startle his captor into releasing his grasp.

It had the opposite effect. Dean instinctively tightened his fist from the sharp pain. He glared at the source, aggravated with his intransigence. Bowman relented immediately and grimaced in silent pain while his tiny limbs strained with more panic to pull free. “Sonova--”

“Dean,” Sam interrupted. “Lighten up a little, you’re gonna crush him.” His face was covered in sympathy for Bowman’s predicament, well aware of how it felt to be crushed by a human enough to get hurt.

Dean realized what Sam was thinking and loosened up instantly, relaxing his hand around the little guy. The last thing Dean wanted to do was make Sam relive his torment from the dark days they’d been separated. Nothing was worth that.

Dean examined the bite mark. It was no more painful than a small papercut, and barely visible. By contrast, Bowman was breathing heavily and his gaze was cast downward. A simple squeeze meant a lot more from his point of view.

Pulling the pocket open a little farther with the hand Sam was standing on, Dean glared down at Bowman. "Try to behave for once. We don't want to hurt you!” And with that he shoved the hand in the pocket, letting the little guy drop down.

Bowman coughed as he recovered from getting squeezed in Dean's fist. It was a familiar feeling that he'd hoped he wouldn't have to experience again. At least this time he fared slightly better. Slightly. He tucked his wings close to his back, glad they hadn't been wrenched too much when he was shoved past the opening of the pocket.

Before Sam followed, Dean held out a finger to hold him back a moment. “Sam, if he tries anything, you know what to do, right?” Once he received a nodded response, Dean backed off. Sam dropped down without another word, vanishing from sight.

With that taken care of, Dean straightened. He draped his right hand over the pocket opening so Bowman couldn’t try any escape plans and hoped Sam would fare okay down there. If only he could know what it was like in his own pocket, but that was one part of Sam's world he would never be able to see.

Bowman managed to scramble out of the way just as Sam dropped into the pocket with him. He wanted to leap up and crawl out of the swaying fabric confinement, but instead ended up shrinking back when he saw how Dean's gigantic, powerful hand covered the opening. The few rays of green-gold sunlight that leaked into the pocket revealed the fear on his face. He didn't have much room left for defiance, now that he was trapped. Trapped like an animal in the claws of its predator.

Being in a confined space was bad enough, but there was nothing very solid beneath them, and it made it difficult to find a steady position to rest. Bowman looked over at Sam contemplatively. There was no way he'd be able to fight the guy. Even without his superior build, he was armed with a knife, at the least. Against a human, sprite-sized Sam obviously wouldn't look like much. But with Bowman unable to get his wings open enough to fly out of reach, Sam made a very good prison guard.

"Where we're going, it's .... it's not in the forest, is it?" Bowman asked quietly, already knowing the answer. At this point, he had no reason to believe that they would ever let him go. For all he knew, Sam could have been captured by Dean in a similar way and had been trained to cooperate. "I've ... never left the forest before," he admitted, even quieter this time. Saying it out loud reminded Bowman of just how frightening the thought really was. He was captured so easily, control over his life wrestled out of his own hands. And he was being taken away from his home, maybe for good.

Bowman was afraid.