A whimper escaped the ex-angel, almost akin to a wounded, starving dog in need of the smallest of scraps. Cas inched closer until he was almost nose to nose with Belial. He didn't have much to give. Camp Chitaqua was hardly well stocked.
"Tell me what you want and I'll get it for you," The words oozed out as a half purr, half needy mewl. "Please, I need it bad." The urge to just cut Belial's arm and drink his fill was almost overwhelming. Being so close he could almost smell it, almost taste it. He needed it.