I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader]

Gamble

Two days with Calliope turned into three. Three turned into five. Five turned into a week. A week and a half later, the two of us were still traveling together - sometimes I had a hard time understanding why. She and I got along well together, and I appreciated that she was so happy and cheerful. Her bubbliness reminded me of Dennis, and once more I sank into the role of the depressing one. Calliope didn't take kindly to it.

"You know, you could at least smile for once," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She pouted from her place on a fallen tree, a fire whirling at her feet. I giggled softly and leaned further into my backpack, stretching my feet out in front of me.

"I do smile," I countered playfully and crossed my own arms over my chest, tossing her a challenging smirk.

"But only like that," she said, gesturing towards my face and by default my smirk. "You never, like, actually smile. You know, where your cheeks hurt because you've been smiling so much."

I frowned. "I do smile like that, you just aren't looking when I do," I teased.

She huffed. We fell silent for a few moments and I enjoyed the sounds of the forest. It was late now and the moon was high in the sky casting a weak glow through the trees. Its milky glow splattered the ground like someone had dipped bunches of grass in white paint.

"Do you want to go hunting tonight?" she finally inquired. "We could hunt something together if you feel up to it."

I smiled softly. "I'd rather watch you hunt again if that's alright."

She huffed again. "When are you going to help me bring in the food, huh?" she teased, a smirk growing on her features.

"When you stop being so damn good at hunting," I quipped back. "Seriously, you make it look like art."

Her face flushed and she ran a shy hand through her dark hair. This wasn't the first time I had said something like this to her, and she was still always surprised by it.

Calliope had a unique way of hunting. It was more like tracking and then a sudden, swift attack. She could down an animal in one blow, and when she tore at its skin it was as if she was shredding a pre-existing seam. Nothing like when I hunted - blood always got everywhere, all over the fur of the animal and all over me.

She made it look effortless and with very little mess. It was almost impossible to tell that there had been a kill in that very spot. It was even more impressive each time I saw it.

Despite her bulky, fluffy malamute form Calliope was incredibly fast. Hell, sometimes I thought maybe she could rival my own speed. She could certainly rival Marcus's and she wasn't even a pure-blooded wolf. I assumed that came from years of living on her own.

"Have you ever wanted to join a pack?" I asked her. She was caught off guard by this question, looking rather confused and shocked by it. She stiffened, bottom lip quivering for a split second before she broke into an uneasy smile.

"I mean... not really? I've never really thought about it, honestly." She sighed and stood on the downed tree, walking up and down its length and balancing with spectacular precision. "I don't know, I've never met many others like me, so I've never thought about being in a big group of them." She turned around to face me, arms extended wide to keep balance. "What about you? Do you have a pack?"

I chortled and leaned my head against my bag. "I do. I never thought I'd have one, honestly, but I'm glad I do."

"What are they like?" she asked, hopping down from her log.

"They're... warm. And funny. I can count on them to be my family, my friends, and I have a sneaking suspicion that if I asked them to they'd help me bury a body," I laughed lightly and Cal looked bewildered.