[center][h3][color=00a651][u]Mitra[/u][/color][/h3][/center]

Mitra turned over the trinket made from animal bone as he sat at the dining room table. He'd come home, found the small package bearing his name, and now he was staring down the Totem of Prey. He re-checked the handwritten return address, which had been torn and rained upon, smudging the ink to unreadability. Was it enchanted to be destroyed? Or had it been coincidence?

[color=00a651][i]Hell of a coincidence,[/i][/color] he mused. Someone didn't want him knowing who they were. They had chosen to send him a warning - someone knew he was a demon (or, well, had become able to become a demon - blargh. Forget it, it was ultimately semantics that no one particularly cared about) and someone (else?) didn't like that. Yeah, it was probably two separate people. Very few hunters were interested in warning their prey. In fact, it was probably a warning that Winchester knew about him and would be on his ass.

(He'd heard about Abberline Winchester, in fact, before the radio tonight confirmed his presence in town. He thought he'd kept a low profile, but apparently not, not if someone felt the need to send the Totem of Prey. On the topic of the radio, he'd get his mother-in-law a good bottle of 'rak and personally inspect any other gifts she got. Just in case Farley got any smart ideas.)

So it raised the issue - who saw fit to warn him? They had to know what happened to him, since it was addressed to Mitra personally and not the Singh couple. Maybe it wasn't even warning about Winchester - maybe it was a general warning, like 'hey you've been really active, might want to reel that in before you get noticed by someone more violent'. Maybe it was someone who he'd dealt with before. That set his shoulders down. Yeah, that made sense - he'd cut a few good deals in the city, both as a human and a demon. Some of those folk probably owed him, since he got them what they wanted without selling their soul. And one, concerned for him, sent him a warning about Winchester. That was the explanation he was going to go with, until he got evidence saying otherwise.

And of course he wasn't going to tell Ravindra. That'd just set his nerves on edge and make him more desperate to gain some kind of power if he thought Mitra was in trouble. Mitra was not in trouble, not yet, and there was nothing worth worrying his husband over. He might tell Mrs. Singh, if only because she had a bad habit of finding out these things anyways, but that could wait until he had a better idea of who sent the Totem. For now, he pocketed the Totem and began ripping the written-on flaps from the cardboard box. He needed to break down the small package before Ravi got home and started asking pertinent and pointed questions about the mysterious package.

That was when the trumpets started.

"[color=00a651]Oh, why [b]now[/b]?[/color]" He was all too familiar with the sound, and frankly he was not feeling ready for this. He considered slipping into his more demonic form before deciding against it - he might lose the Totem in the process or destroy it. Instead, he checked his reflection in the china closet - hair was a bit messy, he could fix that. Jacket was askew, he could straighten that. Was that a bruise peeking out from under his shirt? Crap, had that been visible all day? His face flushed as he moved the shirt to try to cover it up. He tried to will the blush away, though he could still feel it warming the tips of his ears as the trumpets grew louder, accompanied by cymbals and other instruments. 

He moved to the living room, where the instruments grew ever louder. Good - if his boss manifested halfway through the china closet, both Ravindra and Mrs. Singh would be quite upset. All he could do was wait, wait and see what King Paimon wanted of him today.