[ That throws him off. While he wasn't attempting to use her power just feel it. What he gets in return is startling to say the least. Channeling witches always gave one the feeling of some kind of kinship - but this...? This was more.
He was still rather new to magic, that was no secret so most of what he knew was secondhand experience, and theories. What he lacked in experience he made up for in everything he learned through other witches in his time - spending time traveling with witches, teaching them and learning from them. It didn't at all help that their bitch of a mother put him in a weaker witch so she could control him.
It takes him to find his words, not even sure what to think any more. She was powerful, she was also more than familiar. ]
Dean Winchester - he's a hunter... Turned serial killer... [ He leaves off the demon part, not exactly ready to explain demons as he tries to process what he's just felt. He's not normally one to offer help and advice but this was an entirely new situation. ]
It's no imposition.
[ He retreats further into his room, expecting her to follow, only waiting for his door to be closed before he speaks again in regards to what he'd felt. But even before that he waits to question her - first he plays whatever he had previously been listening to on his record player - something soft, background noise. ]
no subject
He was still rather new to magic, that was no secret so most of what he knew was secondhand experience, and theories. What he lacked in experience he made up for in everything he learned through other witches in his time - spending time traveling with witches, teaching them and learning from them. It didn't at all help that their bitch of a mother put him in a weaker witch so she could control him.
It takes him to find his words, not even sure what to think any more. She was powerful, she was also more than familiar. ]
Dean Winchester - he's a hunter... Turned serial killer... [ He leaves off the demon part, not exactly ready to explain demons as he tries to process what he's just felt. He's not normally one to offer help and advice but this was an entirely new situation. ]
It's no imposition.
[ He retreats further into his room, expecting her to follow, only waiting for his door to be closed before he speaks again in regards to what he'd felt. But even before that he waits to question her - first he plays whatever he had previously been listening to on his record player - something soft, background noise. ]
Who are you?