Castiel notices that he's been noticed. Hard not to, really, what with watching Dean so closely as he is, even if his attention is occasionally diverted by observing the crowd as a whole. Humanity is strange and beautiful, and confusing. Ostensibly this is a Christmas celebration, but it appears to be a mating ritual as well.

He decides that he may as well watch from a closer vantage point, and moves toward Dean. He is also curious to more closely observe this younger man - boy, really - whose company Dean doesn't seem to mind.

As he nears the two, he brushes against a serving table, bedecked with food and decorations. A small brass bell attached to it rings with a clear high note.

With no more warning than that sound, suddenly Castiel pitches forward a couple feet as two wings spring (no other word for it) in the opposite direction from his back. The abrupt weight stops him in his tracks, and he peers as best he can behind him, calmly craning his neck. They're medium warm gray, and very fluffy. This is new, he reflects; they've never been corporeal before.