The Shadow looks down at the barrel of Dean's gun, grinning. Blood drips down onto the weapon as he opens his mouth, but Castiel's attack interrupts him with devastating efficiency.

And then the Shadow is gone. For now.

Combat only stalls. The only way to get rid of the Shadow for good is to accept it, but an attack like this should at least buy Philip a day or two. And for now it's Dean who has the last word.

Philip forced himself to look at the scene and now breathes that sigh of relief at last. He pauses for a moment, closing his eyes. The pain from being chocked is only a faint soreness in his throat now. The leg is... a little less accomodating.

Shakily he attempts to get back on his feet, leaning against a tree behind him for support. Words still fail him at this point. Well, part of him anyway...

" So our damsel Philip here is still a little too distressed to comment, but on his behalf I'd like to express my sincere thanks for savin' our skin.

Sorry for the lack of hands and all, but really, standing ovations, guys."