"I could send you a few things, if you've got a Journal," Dean offered, "and, uh...I don't know much about the wings and halo bit. He kind of just...appears and disappears." The human shrugged and turned his attention to the chicken, digging through the cupboards for the right pan to bake it with. "Mostly disappears," he muttered, and then straightened, the pan in hand. "So, you're uh...a medic? A doctor? Bet your camp is missing you. Those are in short supply. Like everything else."