After the past couple of months -- Hell, the past half a year, but especially the most recent months -- Sam's been keeping a close eye on people. The list remains fairly static, which is a good thing in his book, and short, which is a good thing too mostly, but there's still a list. Dean, Natalya, Neil, Shari. He doesn't pry for secrets or force confrontations, but he's there, in case he needs to.

In this case, he's on the path, taking long strides on his way to Natalya's, only to find her heading his way. He stops, a small, pleased smile quirking his lips. "Hey," Sam calls as she nears him. "Where you off to?"