Normally Castiel might notice the lack of utensils on one side, or the fact that it's a relatively meager meal, but he's so damned hungry that it doesn't even register, and the scent of cooked meat filling his nose is all that matters.

Stiffening up, Castiel stares openly, and if it weren't for his noble upbringing like as not he'd be diving on the plate and digging in with wild abandon, fork be damned if need be, but his good manners are deeply ingrained. He walks instead, to his seat, and sits without preamble, stomach rumbling loudly at the scent of the food even while he's reaching for his fork.

"Thank you."