[Ariadne is lingering under the cinnamon tree when she spots him. Or, more accurately, picks up his scent. Turning in his direction, she immediately picks up on something...different.
No wounds that she can see. His clothing is a mess, but that's not entirely uncommon.
There's something...something else.
Without hesitating, she walks over to the road, hurrying to meet up with him.]
no subject
No wounds that she can see. His clothing is a mess, but that's not entirely uncommon.
There's something...something else.
Without hesitating, she walks over to the road, hurrying to meet up with him.]
Dean?