Saerian really did not want to deal with anymore of Dean Winchester's weepy bullshit.
He'd seen a little bit of what the guy dreamt about before. It was like watching Jesus hang on a cross, only less entertaining. Waaaah, Sam. Waaaaah, Jo. Waaaaaaaaah, Ellen. Waaaaaah, hellhounds.
He shook his head and grinned. Sam vanished. And as Dean--not yet injured in his dream--got to his feet to look for Sam, Saerian grinned.
"How about a little fire, scarecrow?" he said.
The atmosphere rippled. They could be heard, breathing. Growling. One started to bark. Saerian narrowed his eyes at Dean. He wouldn't let them go just yet. With three, Dean wouldn't survive long when Saerian let them go.