[Though his clothes, like Castiel's, have seen better days, they're still holding together all right — no big rents revealing nasty wounds underneath. A visual checkup confirms nothing more severe than scrapes crisscrossing his hands. Wilhelm's eyes fall to these as Castiel describes the risks of infection, and his brow creases in worry.
Still gnawing at the snake, he frees a hand to accept the makeshift knife. If everything weren't complete shit right now, he might find humor in how Castiel inadvertently echoes Lucifer by arming him with a weapon. A lot of good it did him last time. He inspects it grimly before pocketing it.]
Right around here.
[Nothing really makes it a shelter, though, except for the presence of others. He tears off another tough bite of snake meat, flicks a look at Castiel.]
Can angels even die?
[This is half genuine curiosity, half moody snark.]
no subject
Still gnawing at the snake, he frees a hand to accept the makeshift knife. If everything weren't complete shit right now, he might find humor in how Castiel inadvertently echoes Lucifer by arming him with a weapon. A lot of good it did him last time. He inspects it grimly before pocketing it.]
Right around here.
[Nothing really makes it a shelter, though, except for the presence of others. He tears off another tough bite of snake meat, flicks a look at Castiel.]
Can angels even die?
[This is half genuine curiosity, half moody snark.]