This is my Amharic name, which we came up with in class. It’s pronounced “Hailu Anbessau” and roughly translates to “The Power Lion”. Others in the class got Honey (“Maritu”) and Strong Beast (“Bertu Awre”). Don’t ask how we got these, we don’t remember. From what I’ve gathered, traditional Ethiopian names are either rooted in a strong biblical tradition (Rahel, Ephraim) or have far nicer literal meanings than our names (like Genet: “Paridise”, or Tessfaye: “My Hope”).
In case you were unaware, Kiva Free is actually my given name, hence the tattoo. My mom calls me “Freedom” as a nickname, and a lot of the folks that know me, address me using both my first and middle name.
The monster daddy reaches for his son and pulls him back out of the path of Castiel’s approach. Sam’s checked them out already. They’re positive no one in this family eats people to stay alive and that none of them are an actual threat. They’re not here to kill anyone, but the case is related and they’ve gotta check ‘em out.
In dad’s eyes, though, these three, towering men present the biggest threat he’s ever come up against. As sure as he is that he’s done nothing wrong, with Sam, Dean, and Cas crowding into his apartment, it almost feels as if he has.
“Keep away,” he says low in his child’s ear as Cas approaches, “He’s a Winchester,” it comes out sounding like a curse, “you get close, he’ll hurt you.”
Cas stops a measured distance away and holsters his blade. “We’ve just got some questions,” he pulls his coat over his pockets and keeps his hands at his sides.
They go on with questioning both the boy and his father and then leave in peace.