Fog (via *** - Вадим Трунов - LensArt.ru)
It wasn’t the last thing Castiel expected to see in Purgatory, but it was certainly shocking enough to prompt an arm thrown out, a full stop, a backwards step.
“What the… How’d a horse get here?” Dean’s voice, normally hushed in deference to hiding, to maintaining their low-key presence - as much as was possible here - was raised, the shock rendering him inelegant and loud. It was the closest to normal he’d been in almost a year.
“It isn’t a horse. It’s the Mari Lwyd and we need to go, Dean.” It might not kill them; but then again, it might. Castiel could see it changing, shifting before his eyes; prominent bleached skull and bloody ribbons of flesh between flattened teeth bespoke the symbolism of it’s nature.
They fled, slowly and carefully, without a backwards glance.
“The Mari Lwyd is a symbol of endings,” he says, later, to the empty field where Dean has disappeared.