Pat’s never really had anyone do this before– the gentle, almost rhythmic smoothing as Brian makes his way across one wing and then the other, seemingly in no rush to get to the main event, so to speak. He hasn’t touched Pat’s preen oil glands at all, but apparently Pat’s body has gotten the message that preening is happening now anyway. He can feel that the feathers closest to his back are slick with oil now, already noticeably heavier than usual. Brian seems to notice this as well, as he pauses mid-sentence to let out a soft “Hmm!” when his ministrations shift again towards the center of Pat’s back.

The first time Nicke sees a mature pair of player wings in person—not pre-downs, not rookie wings, but a full wingspan—it's the April before the draft, and he's in a dressing room in Latvia, trying not to be star-struck by his own teammates. Or: The NHL gives you wings.

The way to a hockey player's heart is through his wings, and the way to a goalie's heart is through his bower. Or: five times PK saw Carey's bower, and one time they saw someone else's.

The Winchesters have been subjected to a lot of things in the name of hunting, but the result of a spell-gone-wrong on their latest case is still pretty high on Dean's weird scale. While their father is out searching for a way to undo the magic, Dean's stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, trying to deal with his bitchy teenage brother and his own increasingly un-brotherly feelings toward him. Who'd have thought Sammy growing a pair of giant bird wings would be the least of his problems?