A Sort-of Lion, A few Witches, A Not-Quite Closet(malfunction). Stalkers wanted.

As Lata does this,Orion slides under the beast, using an ornate dagger that pulses with power to slash at its tendons. After taking a leg out he scatters, hopping the beasts back. Digging his claws in, he starts murmuring soothing words. "You are not alone. I am here. Can you hear me. We don't want to kill you. I promise. We just want the soul key. You are not alone. Please stop this. Please." For a moment the creature stills, as if thinking, before trying to fling him off. With heavy heart and heavier mind he sinks his blade into its throat. Refusing to move his hand away even as acidic blood burns his skin. Jumping off a moment before it thumps to the ground. Lifeless at last. Taking the key, Orion tests its weight. "Be at Peace." Sprites come and swarm the creature, and it begins to dissolve into blue mist. The newest sprite comes to Orion, bigger than the others. Nuzzling his face, he dips his head to hide his tears. A faint, "Shalough." What is left of the beast is quickly overgrown by the forest, as it takes back what was given.

Sam's eyes widened as the large key remained, jutting from the overgrowth. He could feel its energy crackling, resonating with his. There was a look in his eyes, something hungry, and a molten effect began to creep up his skin. He took a step towards the key, and a blast of heat began to pulse from it. It was hot, throwing embers this way and that, but the forest seemed somehow untouched. The closer Sam got, the brighter the key began to glow, until it was white-hot and dripping. Slowly, it began to morph into a blindingly hot broadsword covered in runes. Sam's eyes were pitch black save for the burning rings of his eyes, the molten effect singing the edges of his clothing. He was finally next to the key, and Sam's eyes glinted murderously. He closed his hands around the grip of the sword, phantom flames singing black rings into the new grass around them. He steadied himself before yanking the sword out of the grass violently, and the heat lashed out unbearably. Cracks began to form in the ground, seeming to drop into an expanse of molten metal. The pits sparked and hissed, and a lashing of flames knocked the others to the side

Sam's hands felt like they were burning, which was a new experience for a creature of molten metal. Cas shifted again, his true form looping around the others as a watery shield curved around them to protect them from the wave of heat. There was a bright flash as Sam gave a final yank of the sword, and the heat died as suddenly as it started. Deep, blackened fissures spiderwebbed across the ground, strange runes and circles marring the bright grass. Sam lay on the grass beside the overgrown lump where the creature lie, hand closed around the hilt of the enormous sword. He seemed to be unconscious, but his body still looked like a lava lamp

Cas turned to look at him, moving stiffly as the burnt parts of his back cracked while he turned to look at Sam. "I…I don't know. I've never seen a guardian regain its soul. There's almost no information on their species to begin with, so this is practically unheard of."

Cas frowned, sensing Lucy's pain. He was irritated with himself that he hadn't noticed it earlier. He nodded. "Yes, that would be wise." He winced, moving so he was more upright. The odd rune on his body sparked oddly, but none of them seemed to be working. Great. No shifting, or healing

Sam made a pained noise, rolling a little towards her. He still held the golden sword in a death grip, his knuckles white from the effort of it. Cas hovered over them, wincing as his back cracked and flaked. Sam's eyes fluttered, a strange, starry liquid beginning to seep from the corner of his eye. He opened his mouth to say something, but all he could manage was "Hurts."

Sam made a noise of protest, dragging the sword closer to him. "No…Please don't…" he said tiredly, the molten metal of his body shifting under his skin

Cas craned his neck down towards Sam. "I think he's just weak. The sword isn't totally a part of him, not yet. It's trying to build a connection, and it's taking a lot of his strength."

Orion had been mourning when the flames hit.
Orion had been mourning when the key was reclaimed.
Orion had been mourning when the blast had knocked him off balance.
Orion had been mourning when what was lost was found.
Orion had been mourning when Cas had shielded the others.
Orion had been mourning when the Guardian had found himself again.
Orion had been mourning when the fire and darkness had taken the clearing.
Orion had been mourning when the woods had retaliated.
Orion had been mourning when he had felt the pain.
Orion had been mourning when he lost himself.
Orion had been mourning when he lost others.
Orion had been mourning when he was lost.

Sam tried to lift his arm, the limb sluggish and heavy. "I…Might need to be carried. M' tired," he murmured. Everything seemed hot and cold all at once, and he didn't like it at all

Orion is waiting.
Orion is waiting to be noticed.
Orion is waiting for those around him.
Orion is waiting for more pain.
Orion is waiting for the Guardian to see what he has done.

Sam rolled onto his side, near cutting himself on his own soul. "Rion? Orion? What's wrong with Orion?" he asked tiredly

Orion had replied.
You.
Should.
Know.
Guardian

Sam frowned at Orion, struggling to a sitting position while using the broadsword for leverage. "What…What do you mean?" Cas had the same look of confusion behind his mask, and he curled in on himself out of habit

When Orion speaks his voice is not his own.
He.
Told.
You.
Guardian.

(just for quick clarification so I know how to properly respond, what exactly is going on with Orion? like, what is he trying to imply?)

(A while ago it was revealed that Orion feels the forests pain, already weak after the moneter, he has been taken over by the spirit of the forest)