Crowley cowers. He imagines his flesh being melted from his bones, imagines turning into a puddle right where he stands----completely obliterated the way he was when he was killed back in Hell. Life over, 100%, never coming back. He imagines it, and his flesh burns and---and----
And he takes a breath. He's still breathing. He hasn't melted yet, there's some part of him still holding on. This is different than it was back in Hell, this is very different somehow. Maybe here, he has a chance to do something to help the human soldier person before he goes completely.
It's a hound. A dog, right? What is it that dogs hate? Well, Crowley hates that mouth of its----so he tries to imagine a muzzle, something wrapped around the green-eyed monster's face, keeping its maw closed. Maybe one attached to a chain leash, with the handle in Crowley's uninjured hand. He has no idea if his abilities will work like that in this place, but he's going to focus, going to try.
He only has seconds before he's liquid, but maybe he can pull the green-eyed hound into the quicksand before he's gone.
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And he takes a breath. He's still breathing. He hasn't melted yet, there's some part of him still holding on. This is different than it was back in Hell, this is very different somehow. Maybe here, he has a chance to do something to help the human soldier person before he goes completely.
It's a hound. A dog, right? What is it that dogs hate? Well, Crowley hates that mouth of its----so he tries to imagine a muzzle, something wrapped around the green-eyed monster's face, keeping its maw closed. Maybe one attached to a chain leash, with the handle in Crowley's uninjured hand. He has no idea if his abilities will work like that in this place, but he's going to focus, going to try.
He only has seconds before he's liquid, but maybe he can pull the green-eyed hound into the quicksand before he's gone.