Ifan had found himself staring absent mindedly towards some unknown horizon, eyes unblinking, thoughts racing from the past to the future, then back to the past. Along this current of erratic thoughts floated Castiel, an old friend, a mentor. It reminded him of an empty room, its doors left wide open in a hurry, a cold breeze running through the halls. "Has it happened again?" Muttered he in a brief moment of recollection, of sentience. Such clarity faded into oblivion then, the prince lost within his thoughts, standing still like a gargoyle once more.