Like so many birds versus too clean windows the tall, lanky man collided with the glass and found himself staring up at the stars while he lay flat on his back in the Sfakianos lawn, waiting for his vision to return.
Cas barely looked like Cas anymore. He had grown out of his baby-ish teen stage, finally, and years of roaming around avoiding society had done their number. His cheekbones were more pronounced from hunger thinning his overall mass, his hair was an unevenly hacked mess that stuck out in every direction. A combination of knots and general unkempt style held firmly in place by a build up of grease and dirt and the occasional twig.
When he realized he was in city limits, with no real idea how he had accidentally made it in, he decided staying unpowered was probably the way to go. He was wearing grimy, dirty clothes whose colors were lost to time and a smelly duster that had doubled as a jacket, blanket, rope, occasional pretend superhero cape over the years. He stuck out visually, and his pungent accumulation of smells was an assault on the olfactory nerves from an impressive distance.
It had been a long time. He couldn't remember civility too much, he had been avoiding people as if he were half feral for a lot of years. He didn't remember how long it was, he didn't remember how he got out or how he got in again. But he remembered a few things. And one of them was on the other side of that window. Or so he thought, but when he arched his head back and saw familiar purple hair walking down the street towards her home he leapt to his feet. And then stumbled from the dizzying effect it had on his fragile cranium, but once he found his footing he threw his hands in the air with a loud 'yarp' of victory and a much too loud, "Lyddie!"
DivineSaturn
