I've missed the last couple of weeks, so this is a threefer. Grill, clear and pour. Oh, and it's international, Canada. So I'm late, but at least I'm caught up!
Wendigo padding softly behind him, Sam pulled himself to the back of the cave. He could feel at least one broken rib, maybe two, and blood trickled down the back of his neck from the gash on his head.
That, of course, was secondary to the fact that a monster was about to eat him. Sam laughed, a little lightheaded. Nice to know he had his priorities straight.
The wendigo hissed, slinking closer.
"You are one fugly bastard!" Sam gasped. "Jesus, I've seen ugly before, but you're ugly's asshole." He laughed, ignoring the pain as his ribs ground together. "No wonder you live in a cave. I'd hide, too, if I looked like you."
The monster roared and loomed over him.
"Jesus, you bastards like to play with your food, don't you?" Sam groused. "Just eat me already!"
With a rasping chuckle, the wendigo reached for him.
"Hey!" Dean shouted. "Douche bag!"
The creature fell shrieking as fire blossomed in its chest. Sam closed his eyes against the glare as flames consumed his tormenter.
"You bring the grill, Dean?" he said feverishly as his brother knelt beside him. "Let's throw this fucking shrimp on the barbie!"
"Nice job keeping him distracted," Dean said, gentle hands exploring Sam's injuries.
"No problem." Sam winced. "Crap! Watch it."
"Sorry. The rest of the cave clear?"
Dean pulled a bottle of water out of his backpack and held it to Sam's lips. "Not too fast, Sammy."
Finished, Sam slumped back, closing his eyes.
"Rest a minute. I'm gonna pour some kerosene on our friend, make sure he's good and toasted."
Kerosene in hand, Dean hesitated. "You all right?"
Hearing the worry in his brother's voice, Sam said wearily, "I will be. But – can we go home now? I don't like Canada anymore."
Not taking a shot at Canada. Just wanted to get the international thing in there and pretty sure Canada's chockfull of Wendigos!