Duma's jaw visibly tensed as he shrugged his shoulders like it didn't matter. Of course, it mattered. It mattered terribly to him. But he had grieved and humans had such short lifespans anyway. //We cannot serve the human race better if we do not understand their pain or their grief. Nor can we serve them if we do not understand the opposite - their love, kindness, and tenderness. Azrael and I have always been more open to these sorts of things because we are angels of death. We see them at the close when all is said and done - a life well lived, a life cut short, and it's part of our jobs to help them.//
Especially Duma. His weekly dinners with the residents of Hell had done wonders for those being tormented. //You will be all the better if you open yourself up and I will help you in any way I can if you choose to do so.// A speech in sign. It probably wasn't something Michael was expecting but there it was.