Salvage
@stillnothelpful
The site was just closing down for the day, and there were several pieces of old furniture piled up outside of the newly gutted building, along with a number of fairly decent studs and planks, weathered but usable.
Castiel was sitting on a pile of those planks when the young werewolf walked out; he didn’t know the wolf’s name, but they did work the same crew some days. “Do you suppose anyone would care if I took all of that?” he asked, head tilted at the old chairs and the old table and a bed frame. He wasn’t yet sure how he would move it from here all the way back to the Red Light District, but first things first.














