There are plenty of ways to turn rabbit into food, and Dean's all but forgotten all of them. Stew. But he hasn't tended the gardens in years. He's not much of a veggie eater, after all, even before the change. But he doesn't even bother cooking it these days. It's almost a craving any more, the warm blood when he tears into soft flesh.

But he cooks it tonight. Skewers it and sets it in the fire until it's dark.

Look, it's the thought that counts, okay.

And since the dining room is still not exactly a good place to eat, Dean takes two plates into the sitting room before he stalks the halls to Castiel's room and bangs on the door with a heavy fist.

"Food."