Cassiel sat in the open meadow not far from town, but far enough not to be seen, not that it mattered to her either way. She liked the peace in this place, having brought herself here for the cause of the angels had probably been the greatest move in her life, with little more to do than heal the humans, tend to what animals weren't hunted by the village or help farm creatures, she'd found her life undisturbed even by demons.

Demons.. They avoided the village, not because of the human guards, they were poorly trained, ultimately weak and wouldn't stand a chance against a swarm of lesser demons. But once demons sensed the blessing and protection of an angel, Cassiel's secret blessing, then they were scared and they would scuttle to hide in all the dark places, all the ways that were hidden.

The wind blew a sudden chill past the angel, she embraced herself in silence, raising her head to the sky slowly as she watched the clouds begin to slowly gather. For the humans this would simply be an onset of weather, but Cassiel could identify the unnatural energies that were gathering somewhere nearby. She raised a hand, gently smoothing back the hair on her left side as she slowly got to her feet, turning her attention to the nearby forest.

Cassiel ran toward the forest, careful not to trip over the large roots of the old oak as she searched the woods with her mind, trying to pinpoint the location of the energy she was sensing, she would not welcome hostile demons to the peace of the village, if a danger were to show itself, she would stop it.

"The basta- AUGH!"

Mikhail fell hard to his knees as the spasm wracked his body, drawing his breath short and sharp through his lungs, contorting his face into a grimace of pain. A fresh load of cursed flew from his mouth as he leaned against the tree, the rough bark salt to his bleeding and damaged wings, one slightly clipped and resting limply, useless.

"GOD DAMNIT!" he shouted into what he assumed was nothingness. He had traveled a good twenty miles in this state, drawing on his last wills of stamina and stregth.

"IS THIS WHAT I GET FOR TRYING TO DO RIGHT?" he shouted to the Heavans as his body slid down the rough bark, causing him even more pain but he was almost blind with it now. His eyes burned black and his fangs snarled venemously, his muscles taut in pain. His shirt lie torn across his body, and he was just lucky had been wearing leather pants; they had come away for the most part unscathed.

Blood seemed to coat him everywhere, where he wasn't bleeding he was badly burned or dirt had found it's home. His lips were going purple with the strain it took to stay awake by this point.

"Is this 'onestly what I friggin' get..."

His breath remained labored as he passed into fatigue.

Cassiel heard the outcry in the forest, though the words were indistinct, she couldn't made them out through the trees and the whisper of the winds that swept away sound far too quickly, she quickly moved in the direction of the origin of the sound until she noticed a misshapen form planted against a tree, a winged creature slumped in place. With soft steps on the grass she compensated for going off course slightly and turned towards it, slowing down as she came within proximity, stopping at a tree within his field of view.

It was only then that the shade of the trees parted in their swaying for a moment to reveal the peach face, sandy-blond hair waving behind her as the gust picked up, two gentle eyes practically glowing as she observed him for a mere second before taking tentative steps toward him and she knelt before his form, placing her hands on the ground just before her whilst she leaned up close.

He was in a bad way, and weakening as time went on, she could not ignore him, the supreme being would not forgive a chance for charity abandoned as she got ever closer, reaching her hands out, bit in a hostile way, but in a manner that suggested she was going to embrace him, and she was. Four structures of light spread from her back, first as simple beams of light that slowly began to take form, four wings of ethereal light, an angel's mark as their service to Him..

Once she finally got the chance to embrace the demon she would smile, the world around them vanishing in a blitz of light and motion a soft whisper, a hushed sound and a soft ringing of silver bells as they were warped from the forest, torn from it and displaced, being sent back to her home where the wings shattered into a shower of feathers, rain that hit floor and disappeared like raindrops on the hard flagstone floor.
As for exactly where they had appeared, they were upon a bed, where her embrace would be allowed to loosen and let him fall back upon the soft sheets and pillows as she hopped from the bed, going to find her ointments and potions.

His understanding was not there. He was passed even a semblance of comprehension as his body clung to whatever life was hald within him. His muscles were still taut and sweat mixed with blood as it stained the strangers sheets, soaking into the soft bed. He didn't make noise, but his face was a constant grimace, chocolat locks falling across his forehead and sticking to his damp skin.

Cassiel went through her medicine cabinets quickly, though she did not do so by hand, her thoughts spread out to her surroundings as she telekinetically grasped objects about her home, holding some items in hand. Having her powers allowed her to perform the job of a dozen workers, yet she never did so in the presence of the humans she watched over. Her thoughts were bent on helping the Demon.

She swiftly gathered everything she needed, the tools, ointments and other materials following behind her like some old fable of magic and wonder, several small tables being set about the room as she diligently worked to removed the clothes of her injured patient, a large bowl of water floated up to her side as she pointed at it, touching the side and a flash occurred, the water steaming suddenly, heated in an instant.
She then made several hand motions, a couple of oils pouring into the steaming water and she circled a finger in the air, mixing it up softly.

It all acted as one master puppetry show as in another bowl herbs were being ground up into a paste with several other healing pastes and mixtures. She then dipped a cloth into the hot water, which had cooled down a considerable amount, enough for her to begin using the specialized water to was his body, cleaning away dirt and blood, gently taking the soft material over wounds and revealing several problem areas.

Cassiel motioned her other hand to the pastes, her hand gestures making the paste she'd mixed spread across a number of treated pads, oven fabric with healing ointments of their own soaked in. Another hand movement and the pads floated into the air, allowing her to snatch them one by one, sizing them up and placing them over the larger wounds, some even needed several pads in a line to cover them, they acted to paralyze the flesh, holding it together so it would heal more rapidly as well as release healing fluids as well as re-energizing tinctures that would co-exist with his regenerative capabilities, after all she knew what he was, a demon could regenerate from such folly.

Her eyes then went to the wing, this was one reason why she was not wasting energy healing his body of wounds, because a wing so damaged took fine work, something much more distinctive as she aimed a hand at it, her other continuing to make motions behind her, granting further motion to the remaking tools and lifting more necessities into the air.
From her extended palm a blue light stretched, splitting into two and pulling the wing together. The light wove itself along the seam of the wing, like magical stitchwork, holding it together as a more defined white light glowed along the wound, forced regeneration and healing.

Once she was satisfied with the work on the wing she lifted her hands in his direction, his body lifted into the air for a moment as the dirtied sheets were then torn from under him. With his wounds covered and closed for now he wouldn't bleed out as she motioned to a cupboard in the room, the doors flying open and fresh sheets stretched out, a new duvet setting itself in place and fresh pillows.

A bead of sweat stretched down the side of her brow as she sighed, the toll of doing so much at once was bothersome, a cloth dabbing at her forehead before she continued, grabbing rolls of bandaging that she begun to wrap over the healing pads, making sure they stuck in place once the adhesiveness of the pastes gave way, further blocking the escape of blood.

When she as satisfied with her work she set him down gently, covering him with another blanket and began clearing away the tools and ointments, once she'd finally done all this she could return and sit at his side, and wait, and pray, she wasn't sure if all her work was in vain or not, sometimes a body would do the most unexpected things, giving out completely or healing faster than expected, but at least she would be here to witness it.

Mikhail struggled to conciousness, only ever so faintly aware of movement around him. Plenty of movement. Pain was still a pulsing companion throughout his body, but it was refreshed with each movement made upon him, in his delusion making him think they had come to finish him off.

He grimaced and moaned softly with the pain, to weak to fight them off, to go on any furhter. All he could do was lie down and take whatever was applied to him. Before and healing ointment had actually penetrated to the point of feeling good, he passed out completely, one name remaining on his lips as he did so.

"Melanie..."

I'm so sorry Melanie...

The Angel continued to observe the angel as he slept, she understood he'd be rather done for after his ordeal, whatever had happened. The only evidence she needed that he'd been through hell.. She stopped to silently giggle to herself at the awful pun.. The evidence was all the damage that had been done to his body.

Her eyes went to the windows, darkness was creeping in and she noticed some-one walking up to her home. The angel went about closing various curtains as a sign that nighttime was coming, then beginning to light lamps about her home. When the knock on the door came she approached, opening it up for an aged old man to make his way in,
"Ello m'girl." The old man smiled, stepping in slowly, with the aid of the Angel whom gently brought him to a seat in the home, where he spotted a figure asleep on the bed int he next room,
"A patient..?" He asked, raising a brow as Cassiel went about preparing some tea, though looked over to him and nodded with a small grin, she'd been known to help random travellers, the old man knew everyone else in the village so he was obviously new,
"Know who he is yet, girl..?" He asked, curious himself and looked toward the girl who shooked her head, she didn't know. Once Cassiel was done making the tea she brought a paste to him, another special mixture of herbs that she'd been making for him, it soothed the pain of his old bones, allowing him to continue his duties as the Mayor of the village,
"You be careful, y'ne'er know who yer welcomin' to yer home."

Cassiel would keep the old man company, but also checked on her patient occasionally, having to dig out fresh healing pads and bandages to replace his current ones, he'd still be bleeding enough to stain them, best not to leave dirty rags on him. Once she was sure no more blood was coming she'd be able to use fresh pads with pain-reducing oils, which would hopefully allow him to sleep a much more pleasant sleep that one spent in pain. The treatment would continue over the night, long after the old man had gone home.

Hours would pass as night drew in around them, Mikhail left to nightmarish visions and delirious hallucinations. In truth, his body was already well into the regeneration process; it was his mind that was healing the most.

He was only slightly aware that he was not dad as he first presumed. Grogginess was a constant film over all his senses, eliminating any chance of complete comprehension.

It wasn't until early morning that he finally awoke, sweat laquering his body in a fine coat. It took him a moment to understand, and when he did, it was little.

He remembered taking on The Elders... stumbling away defeated...

Gently he touched his shoulderblade where his wing feathered his skin. The wound was neatly bandaged, as was the rest of his body.
Shit... If some 'uman...

But this kind of healing couldn't be human..

He sat up on the bed, his feet touching the cold floor as he removed most of the bandages that had done their job. Ugly welts were still remnaints of the wounds, but the skin had knitted together rather well and the rest of regeneration would be equally finished after some nourishment. Having taken inventory he turned his attention to his surroundings. The house was amiable in its way; not exactly what he was used to. It reminded him of his sister...

With a shake of his head Mikhail stood and his attention was caught by the reflection in a large wall mirrior. It was a relaxed state, his appearance now that of an attractive mortal save the large but gorgeous russet and chocolat brown wings at his back. Carefully he tested his injured one, spreading it out to full length, as well as the other, a full wingspan of over seven feet. His appearance was often mistaken for an angel, what with his wings and gainly appearance when in an amicable mood. He nearly laughed at that as he continued testing his wings, watching in the mirror.

Where the 'ell is my shirt...

Cassiel had left for a little while, pleased that her patient was still alive and well, or at least as well as he could be with the wounding he'd suffered. He'd recover in time, she knew that much. The Angel was making her way home now, holding up a large paper bag with various things she'd bought, a lot of it was herbs and ointments to replace what she'd used in the recent week.

She quietly made her way up the dirt path to her home, the first sounds of her approach being when her feet met the wooden porch outside, and the crunch of paper as the back was set down then the grinding clicks as the door to her front door as unlocked. She grasped the paper bag again, first just opening the door a crack and backed into the wooden door, pushing it open with her back, then set the bag down quickly inside and pushed the door closed, leaving the door unlocked.

She turned then, moving through the front room and the kitchen that sat adjacent to the healing room where Mikhail was, for a moment looking into the kitchen as she turned into the patients room, turning her head quickly to find herself almost face to face with her guest and jumping slightly, but she didn't shout, her eyes simply going slightly wide. He was on his feet this quickly..? And he'd removed the bandages as well as the healing pads.

The sandy-blond haired young woman's blue eyes did register a level of concern, she couldn't be sure he was fully healed yet and if he was moving about he might reopen a wound, she raised two pale hands, motioning for him to back up, but still kept quiet as can be..

Mikhail raised an eyebrow. He had turned in slight apprehension at the sound of her foots steps upon the path a good fifty feet from the household, the click in the door just more fret. But now he observed. He had watched as this angel, for he could certainly smell it on her, walk into the abode with her parcels, unaware of his position until she all but kissed him on the chin. His eyebrow remained quirked as he examined her, his eyes moving vigilantly over her as he tried to summarize the situation. She had to have been the one to heal him, it was evidently her home he stood in.

Careful and observant of his injury, he gently folded his wings back into his body, letting them fall snugly between his shoulderblades as they were meant. He continued to analyze in silence, a lock of hair falling across his face and into his gaze. He was wary, but only slightly so. She was but one angel and if she wished and ill will towards himself he was almost positive he could stand his ground.

Cassiel slowly crept up to him, placing her right hand on his right shoulder, leaning in close to delicately touch at his wing, making sure it was okay. The female was pretty sure the wing was fine considering he'd been able to stretch and withdraw it so smoothly. She then backed off placing her palms on his chest to gently push at him once, then motioning to the bed he'd been laid out upon, she had no hostile intentions, or certainly not something she was showing.

If anything made sense, she was hardly going to heal him simply to hurt him again, she could have killed him back in the forest here she found him yet here he was, on his feet. The Angel quickly went back into the adjacent kitchen, looking through the cupboards until she found a simple glass. She then found ceramic jar with a stopper in it, pulling the cork out and pouring a half opaque liquid into it, simple juice, squeezed from one of the villages farms.
Cassiel grasped the glass, taking it over to the Demon and held the glass to him in an offering fashion, smiling gently, perhaps he'd understand that he was under no threat here and that she simply wanted to be of help.

He jumped slightly at the coolness of her palms against his chest. He was naturally pretty warm and his skin was touch sensitive to begin with. His eyes narrowed as he tried to understand her meaning, finally realizing that she wanted him to lie down again. Not that he was about to.

He watched her leave to the kitchen and then frowned as she brought him a glass of some liquid. Lightly he took it, warily sniffing it's contents before deeming it safe. Realizing just how dry his throat had beceom he swallowed the glasses contents and rolled his neck slightly before looking down at her.

"Uhmm.. Thank you." he said, not unkindly. Confusion was still maskinghis mind though.

"'Oo are you?" he asked rather directly.

Cassiel took the glass once he was finished, setting it down on a table beside the bed, then left for the kitchen, having not answered his question yet. The young woman then returned, the ceramic jar with the juice in it being set beside the glass and she walked up to him again, holding up her hand. The tip of her finger glowed softly and she turned about, seeming to write something in the air, until the name Cassiel had been etched into place.

She stepped away from it, letting it hang int he air a while as she then got up close to him again, using her hands to carefully trail around the wounds on his body, seeing how much of it had healed, but there was still a level of concern, she didn't want him hurting himself.
A sudden knock on the door made her jump suddenly, placing her hand to her mouth, she turned her head to the side, her name vanishing from the air.

She hurriedly motioned for him to get in the bed, placing her hands together in a prayer-like motion as if begging, after all; a human wouldn't understand him being on his feet so quickly. Cassiel could work miracles, but she was not able to bring even a human to his feet that quickly. She motioned to the bed one more time and slipped from the room, pulling the door half-closed. The young woman went to the door, pulling it open to a portly, middle-aged woman, shorter for definite, holding a metal pot in her hands, the aroma of food quickly traveling into the home as she lifted the lid,
"Surprise! I heard from Mayor Olsen you'd been working yourself to death taking care of a new young man!" She started, making her way into the home, Cassiel backing up then closing the door, "I mean really the way you pick up strangers off the street and just bring stragglers in, you're going to get in trouble one of these days young madame." She placed the pot down on the stove in Cassiels kitchen, turning to her and planting her hands on her hips,
"But if you starve yourself you'll be long gone before trouble even shows up!"

Cassiel raised her hands, smiling innocently, she didn't have much choice, though moved to the doorway into the medical room, checking to see if the demon had complied. The timing of the rather loud woman was good at least, since the demon was awake, perhaps he was hungry? And no-one cooked a mean stew like Mrs Streiss.
Said woman then smiled,
"I'll leave this with you, eat up, I'll come back for the pot later, the kids'll be hankering after their own food. See ya soon sweetheart, and keep up the good work you angel you." She patted Cassiels cheek, who looked ultimately nervous, the human had no idea how correct she was in calling Cassiel that. And like the storm that had just blown in the woman was gone just as fast, stepping out the door with a quick "Bye sweetie!" this being followed by Cassiel putting her hand to her chest and breathing a sigh of relief.

"Cassiel..." he stated. "Well-"

His remark was cut short though as she waved at him to return to bed. Confusion and slight aggravation flared inside him until he took a moment to sense the oncoming mortal. It then took a moment to put two and two together but he reluctantly crawled into the bed for the duration of the womans visit.

When the chatterbox had finally chosen to vacate the premises, Mikhail sat back against the wall on the bed, drawing up a leg and casually resting an arm over his knee, a look of question upon his face for Cassiel.

The angel looked over to Mikhail, staring at him for a moment before she began rummaging around in the room, looking for something. She disappeared out of sight for a while, the opening and shutting of drawers could be heard until the home fell quiet again. The angel reappeared, having lifted and carried the groceries she'd bought over to the kitchen, though she appears to have something clamped in her mouth, a thin black book, a pen sitting neatly behind her ear as she set the groceries down and returned to the medical room.

She took the pen from behind her ear, scribbling something down onto the paper in the notebook and pulled the sheet out, placing it in his hand before she closed the notebook for now, setting it down on the chair next to the pen as she returned to the kitchen, glancing over to him occasionally while she put things away in the cupboards. The note in hand, which was written in Netherspeak, the generalised language among the demons that Angels had also taken as a compulsory language to understand their foes, read simply,
Thank you, humans would not understand your rapid recovery. Are you hungry?

Cassiel appeared at the doorway, holding up a bowl she'd filled with some of the humans stew, a rather delicious and quite palatable meal that a demon could appreciate, even over the grand meals that could sometimes be served at the halls of the devils. Unlike human tales of how they carnivorously tore apart and consumed humans, a frankly disgusting notion considering uncooked humans tasted awful except to zombies and true carnivores, while the vampiric only really liked the blood and even then they had to bite through a layer of salty human flesh, demons were generally as omnivorous as humans. In her other hand she held half a loaf of bread.
Cassiel walked over to him, offering forth to him the two items and smiled, her brows raised as she waited to see what he would do.

"So you don't speak then?" he asked casually, having accepted the notepad first. Surprise fluttered over his face for a moment at the offered food, but he took it either way, realizing just how hungry he had become.

He dipped the bread and took a bite, savoring the taste gratefully.

"It's good, thank you."

He paused in eating.

"Why did you rescue me?" he asked rather directly.

Cassiel nodded her head when he asked about her not speaking. She'd found ways to deal with it, mostly in that people generally understood what she wanted and needed through her actions, or if she needed to say something more complex she'd write it down, but it certainly had been quite the limitation at times.
When his question about her rescuing him came up she cocked her head tot he side a little, though she stared past him, trying to think on it, until she took her pad and wrote down,
You were injured, I couldn't ignore you, she passed the note to him and bowed her head, before she stood up and returned to the kitchen to scoop up some of the stew for herself.

She eased herself into place in the patient's room, she placed a spoon down on the side table in case he needed it, then sat down, one leg over the other as she took a spoon to her own bowlful of stew and tried it, then smiled rather happily, she did like what humans were capable of in terms of taste. Perhaps it was true that there had to be a passion for cooking, angels showed emotions so scarcely up in heaven that she felt it probably even affected their cooking.

"So you make 'abits of rescuing random strangers? With wings? And the scent of 'ell?" he asked, once again quirking a brow. Casually he ran his hand back through his hair before finishing off the stew, pouring it down his throat.

The angel looked over to him when he asked another question, he was definitely an inquisitive one, but considering his situation he probably did want to know exactly what kind of situation he was in but then she smiled a little, putting her stew down for a moment and grabbed her notepad, she probably went through a great deal of paper.
Again she scribbled something down, though it did appear to take a little longer, obviously it was something larger. Once she was finished she ripped it from the notebook, passing it over to him then returned to eating her soup,
I heard you cry out in the woods, I couldn't understand your words, but I did hear sorrow. And I do help strangers and those with wings, you're the first nether-kind I've ever helped,

Cassiel, in the meantime was looking at her bowl, then the demons, seeming to be considering something as she remembered what he'd done. She brought the rim of the bowl to her lips and drank the mostly liquid meal, or at least a couple of gulps worth before stopping and letting out a somewhat satisfied sigh though then put one hand to her lips as she made an odd noise, it seemed she was laughing, if silently.

"Well then..."

He didn't quite know what to say to that and simply watched her for a moment. He made no real observant note as she mimicked what he had done with the stew, but couldn't help but frown as she began to what he could only assume was giggle.

"And what is so funny??" he asked, complete confusion masking his face. His eyes glanced about the room as if to find the source of the humor but was left with nothing. He sighed and shook his head, looking to his bowl and recalling where the sink was. With ease he stood and walked from the room, depositing the bowl and then returning to the room, leaning in the door frame and crossing his arms over his chest, still half waiting for a response. Hesitantly, he tried a different form of contact; one that might not waste such a large amount of paper.

"Well now?" he spoke once again, but his lips did not move. It was a gentle nudge to her mind, intended to be responded to with the same.

Cassiel stopped, looking his way when he audibly presented his confusion, though the look on his face only seemed to make her want to giggle more. She had to put the bowl down as she held one hand up in his direction, shaking her hand as if to try to get him to ignore it while she continued to laugh to herself, though it was more a habitual movement.

Eventually she stopped, watching him as he left the room, though she still smiled with an odd happiness, lifting her stew again and drank a bit more, having to munch on the solid parts of it since there was more left. It was harder for her to down it as easily as he did considering she had a smaller throat.
She turned her head suddenly when he reached out with his mind, touching hers with the words and she grinned a little,
"Forgive me.. I'm not sure entirely why I found that funny.." A soft voice responded as she continued to eat the remains of the stew with her spoon, "Mrs, Streiss' children do the same thing, and they once did it the same time.. I guess it reminded me of that."

She stood up eventually, putting her bowl down for a moment as she stepped up close to him again, inspecting his wounds quickly once more time before she grabbed her bowl and slipped past him to place it in the sink also,
"Is there any pain..?" she asked, though then added, "What is your name..?"

A momentary sense of relaxation filtered through him at the sound of her voice in his head but a frown remained on his face. He had no dealing with the people she mentioned, and in reality little to do with her. His previous wounds itched, but not in pain, with the urge to get moving and right quick.

When she approached him she couldn't help but stumble backwards a bit, looking down at her with an arched brow as she invaded his personal space. Gently he took her by the forearms and lifted her, setting her aside and out of his face and then watching as she went to deposit her bowl.

He frowned again and stared at her.

"What does it matter?"

Cassiel grinned at him quietly when he asked the question, though then shook her head, continuing her concentration on the dishes as she then started to pour in cold water until the sink was full. She opened her palm toward the water and steam seemed to raise from the surface, she'd heated the water in an instant, then taking in a scouring cloth to clean what dishes were in there, the heat barely affecting her.

She eventually looked over to him and smiled again,
"Well considering I saved your life, gave you my name, got you fed, and on top of all that I'm probably damning myself for helping you, I'm sure giving me your name is a very small price to pay." The angel responded, quite amused seeming at the prospect of having possibly doomed herself in service to him, but she carried on rather happy, drying the dishes and cutlery so she could put them away quickly, then snapped her hand over the water, it burst into steam and slowly vanished. Cassiel usually knew to be discreet but this man would probably not even bat an eyelid at it, as for most humans such tricks were fascinating.

She stared at him a moment, tilting her head as she examined him, he would need new clothes soon, though she then set a bowl down next to the pot of food which was still quite hot, and also placed a spoon in it as she held her hand up to him,
"If you're still hungry, you can manage to ladle yourself some more food, right? I need to go out again, and if you hear anyone at the door, please make sure to lie down again.." She turned away from him, going to the door again and grabbed a small leather wallet from a side table before turning to him and waving,
"My home is your home while you are here, please relax."

For awhile he just watched her; watched her hands as they cleaned the dishes, somehow delicate despite the hot bath. He watched and he listened to her words running through his mind as she chatted away like an idle bird, his only response being the occasional rise of an eyebrow as he once more found himself leaning in the door frame.

He needed to get home. Back to Melanie and Ave. They would have known quickly to flee into hiding, but he hadn't expected things to turn so sour so quickly.

Where had he been going that had brought him to a forest of which he could not seem to recognize? What had been his goal, in such a desolate state, in dragging himself through foliage and brush? He scowled in his thoughts and pushed them aside. He supposed he might as well take advantage of this Angel's generosity while he could until he had figured things out.

As she was heading out the door, he had yet to respond to anything she had said whatsoever. His eyes had constantly remained on her and her actions. At this point he finally spoke aloud.

"Mikhail." he said calmly and then turned his back on her, finding his way back to the room and lieing down.

Cassiel smiled at him calmly as he revealed his name. Very odd for a demon to be called Mikhail considering its Celestial nature, but she decided not to comment on it, watching the demon slip back into his room and out of her sight before she made her way out again. The angel closed the door, locking it behind her and continuing into the village for a while, almost two hours worth of time idly passing by, although for Cassiel it went quickly, who knew how the boredom of being bed-ridden was affecting her patient.

Although the sun high above was just passing its apex, the clouds above were making the world below dark, a strong breeze sweeping across the farmland and whistling past the home, vaguely designing the distinct clicks as Cassiel unlocked the home again, mking her way inside and pushing the door closed behind her with a foot a she walked in with two bag that held a variety of clothes vaguely similar to what Mikhail had been wearing when she first found him, though perhaps not as fantastic.

She peeked into the patient room for a moment to check if he was in there before walking in to place the clothing bags on the table. Hopefully he would find something to his liking among it all, though she fished her hand into one of the bags to pull her wallet out again.