Azrael did something he hadn't done much of in his very long life. He fidgeted. He was not prone to fidgeting, but this subject drove him to it. He shrugged, looking into his tea, then finally up at Duma, because he was an ages-old celestial being, dammit, not a teenager talking to their parents.
"I don't know," he said at last. "I think I might...might be starting to. It's strange now, to not have her there. I challenged Satan to save her life and I'd do it again in a heartbeat." He shoved his free hand through his hair. He was absolute rubbish at talking about this, as he'd told Svetlana before. Still. That didn't mean he couldn't try.
"You know how I am, probably better than most," he said at last. "Michael sets himself apart, even from us, Raphael's gone, and Uriel mostly keeps to his books. I feel-so much more human than the rest of them. And this is terra incognita for me."