[ When Daryl rounded on him, suddenly close again, Castiel straightened like he was prepared for it to become a fight, the tension snapping across his shoulders, but he holds himself back. Daryl is just angry, scared...and right. He knows nothing about it except the weight burdening him, and if not for how close they are, how few people there were here, it wouldn't be gleaming like a beacon to him, that pain.

When Daryl sets off again, Castiel stays put, just for a moment, before coming up on him again, trailing behind now. His eyes are on the heels of Daryl's boots, watching him dodge the noisiest underbrush, and mimicking his efforts. ]

You're their leader. You didn't choose it, it came to you. If you don't believe me, then nobody will.

I am a seraph, Daryl. I can heal people, I can fight, and far more besides. But if you don't accept me, if you don't trust me, then it's all for nothing.