Rolling hills and landscapes. It felt like it was longer than just a year since the outbreak had occurred. Castiel remembered a quieter time, a better time, and a small smile tugged at his lips at the memory. He couldn't blame his brother for missing the old landscapes, the old castles; they were each beautiful in their own right, and Azazeal had spent a long time enjoying them. He would miss them as well, in his position.
"The projects... Yes, this is a much better place than the projects. I am glad you decided to reside here; it seems as if you have settled in well." Taking a sip of his tea, he glanced around the room-studio his brother had set up for himself. "The inn is a very comfortable place to stay at."
Which was one of the reasons why Castiel felt comfortable there. Recently he had found himself unable to stay in one place for long, which was another reason why he refused to live in the prison, but the inn didn't make him feel as closed in as others places did.
Azazeal's question made him pause, and he had to think for a moment for an answer. What did he miss? At first he was going to say that there was nothing, really, but before he could answer he realized that was a lie.
"Part of the beauty in things seems to be gone. Places are abandoned, deserted... There is a lack of tranquility overall." He paused, before a wry smirk crossed his features. "I suppose that is rather ironic, coming from one of Heaven's soldiers?"