Azrael chuckled at her apology. "I'll pour you one of my traditional meeting drinks soon. It's not like we don't have the time" he smiled.
She was incredibly elegant, well spoken. Not a word uttered from her mouth seemed to be wasted or pointless. And while some of the things she presented with were somewhat new ideas to him, such as the Old High Ones, he was interested and curious to learn more.
He took out a old looking bottle, about half full now, with a label so worn it could not be read. The liquid inside the bottle was a brassy colour. He placed it on the bar and took out two glasses, popping the stopper out of the bottle and pouring two healthy measures. From the smell alone, it was clearly an old whiskey.
"I've become the Word I was granted more and more" he admitted. "Lines became more blurry as each year went on and time became something different to me. I'll be there to write the name of the last living person, sure. But I'll be there until the Universe ends. My purpose, like the universe, kinda expanded" he paused. "Sorry, I ain't quite as eloquent as you... I'm used to listening, not so much talking. You mentioned your Grandfather? Who's he?" he asked curiously.