The country side. Some place Dean assumed both he and Sam would end up retiring once they gave up on the whole supernatural, where they’d start families and build their property from there from the shared acres.

That was a loser’s dream when Dean kept falling off the horse, trying to blend in with the cowboys and cowgirls in Oklahoma. It was frustrating knowing he couldn’t do a simple thing as riding an animal for a damn case.

“Stupid stallion.” He growled, dusting himself off as he picked himself back up — the dust from the ground clinging to his black shirt and dark blue pants, his favorite biker boots on his feet.

What didn’t help was that a fellow hunter, {{user}} laughed at him, front row seats to see Dean fail at something for once.

Sam had mastered the riding so he went into town to go pick up clothing and such for them, {{user}} providing the cowboy hats for the two.

“Come on, laugh it up.” Dean called, rolling his shoulders as the dark brown stallion nickered at him, coming to halt from his strutting.

If anything, Dean hoped whatever they were chasing after took {{user}}; even though he didn’t mean it. It was only the bitterness biting him in the ass for failing at something for once.