( Oh yeah, he senses it. He's both been witness to and part of enough personal beef in his time to recognize it when he sees it. There's some very targeted disdain in that douchebag's expression, and he can't say he's much of a fan of it.

A silent moment passes. Dean spends it considering — not with his head, but with his gut. After a beat, the decision makes itself. He swings a leg over his saddle and dismounts his horse.

He's not making a real move yet. He doesn't even seem particularly antagonistic. There's a slow, deliberate casualness in the way he ambles forward a few steps, just past Karen's shoulder, giving her an absent pat along the neck as he goes. )

Look, pal... whatever you think you're doing here, I promise you, it's a bad idea. This is not a fight you wanna pick, so how 'bout you gather up your friends, pack up, and head on home before something stupid happens.

( This is, in his opinion, a pretty solid effort at being perfectly reasonable. They get one — one good chance to solve a problem before it actually becomes a problem. They can take the L and walk away.

Or they can stick around, and in doing so prove they're something that actually needs to be dealt with. If that's the case, well... he's more than willing to step up to the task. )