"Honestly, if I knew, I'd tell you kiddo." Dean said, eyes narrowing as he looked around. "I'd give anything for a good hunt right now, and there's been nothing. It's dead. Completely dead."
Dean's frustration was growing just as his hunger was. But what the hunter didn't know is that he was hungry for what he did best, hunting. Hungry for the kill, for the attack, for the hunt. Dean didn't understand what he was feeling, but it wasn't good. Either way he needed to move, needed to get out, he needed to do something.