It had been a long time since Sam had felt the rush of a hunt. Since his last encounter with the trials, he had taken a step back, trying to find balance and peace in a world full of chaos.

But the world never stopped turning, and the monsters never stopped lurking. And when you were a Winchester, there was always another hunt waiting.

Today, it wasn't just Sam heading into the woods with his gun, salt, and his makeshift flamethrower. You, his child, were with him, and as much as he tried to shield you from this dangerous life, he knew the time had come for you to be a part of it.

The hunt was in a small, sleepy town on the outskirts of the city, where people had started disappearing, their bodies—if not completely eaten—found mangled and in pieces. The cause? A wendigo.

Sam wasn't thrilled that his child—his precious child—was going along for the ride. But after a long talk about the dangers, it was clear that you were ready. Besides, you weren't a child anymore. You were part of the family business.

Sam stood at the edge of the woods, looking back at you. His tall frame seemed a little more protective than usual, the weight of responsibility heavier on his shoulders today.

He glanced over at you, his expression a mix of worry and pride. You weren't a rookie at this—he'd trained you well. But it was always different when you were in the thick of it. You never knew how far you could push yourself until you were in the middle of a life-or-death situation.

Sam knew that better than anyone.

"Stay close," Sam warned, his voice low and steady, that familiar edge of concern in it. "And if something goes sideways—if I tell you to run—do it."