Ah, there was the deep rumble of the warrior angel that Duma had grown so used to. His expression softened and he closed his eyes just to listen to it. But he was being asked a question and he shook his head - no, he had not met the wife. //It was just me and Azrael, having tea in my apartment, with my cat.// Duma paused for a moment, if only because his coffee arrived and he nodded his thanks. He sipped it to test the sweetness and that was just fine. It didn't need to be altered.
He set the cup down. Although it wasn't really his place to say, he told Michael //He feels apart from the rest of our holy brothers and sisters. Too human.// Duma smiled, //But he and I both have always been that way.// Less Heavenly, more hints of Hell. Duma had more Hell in him than Heaven anymore and yet he retained his Grace. He didn't understand their Father's plan but he lived it either way. //But yourself - what are you up to lately?//