When he looked over his large shoulder at her and asked if she had time, she opened her arms slightly. "Where else wiuld I go?" She rhetorixally answered, then set her hand back on his shoulder blade.
She listened to the story, concentrating mostly on letting everything sink in. It left a compassionate but unhurried look on her face, one that reflected his muted pain. So Dean was cursed... in a really bad way. Gretel felt a ball of emotion form in her gut. She hadn't told Sam everything about herself, either. She would... and now seemed like the most appropriate time.
"We've lost those who tried to help us, too..." Gretel started with a show of empathy, to let him know that though she couldn't feel his exact pain, she understood it well. "Hansel in particular. A woman he loved helped him when I was taken... she died defending both of us." Gretrl sighed, enduring the pain of being without her brother. Her codependency had been fraying her nerves from the inside out. Honestly how she had maintained this long was in large part because of Sam.
"There's more... I... know a few things about curses. Not just because I've spent a lifetime hunting witches, but because... I am one. A white witch." The last white witch, as far as she knew. "Healing and lifting curses is in my blood. In fact our mother enchanted us as children so dark magic has no effect on us..."