The sound of clacking footsteps drew Castiel's attention as something familiar, and before long he saw Lust moving down the hall toward him. The red mark on her chest was something he'd noticed before, but not truly put much thought to. Too focused on other illnesses, or his own pain. But now he wondered if it was a mark of what she was, or something else.

She said nothing, even as she approached, and he realized that he would need to attempt to start the conversation. He drew in a breath. "Lingormr mentioned that you had taken a turn for the worse, when I spoke with him before dinner. Your friend never showed himself?"

It had to be worse than that. Maybe he'd turned into some rabid monster and had been put down. Maybe he'd hurt someone else. Either way, Castiel hadn't seen any white-haired men with scars across their faces during the day, so it had to be bad. He suspected that if he still had all of his senses, he would have been able to pick up on the negative energy coming off of Lust in waves.