Somehow, he'd thought the wings were like... a metaphor, or something. Objectively, of course, Priestly knew that there were all kinds of non-human people here, and he'd been personally affected by some of Preya's weird magics. But knowing there were angels here and seeing someone standing on his porch with actual wings was entirely different. His eyes shut briefly at the gust of air on his face when Necrosis flapped - flapped! - a little, and then he was back to wide-eyed staring.
"Holy shit, you really do have wings," he blurted out before he could catch the words and hold them in, then immediately bit his tongue. He did successfully manage to stop himself from reaching up to run a hand through his hair - an old nervous habit he'd had to break to keep from messing up his mohawk, which was done up in brilliant blue today.
"Shit, sorry. Hi. Priestly." He said. He had to work hard to tear his eyes away from the wings, trying to focus on his face instead. "So this is really all you've got for clothes? Because you'll need something to change into if we're gonna wash 'em. I've got some stuff you can borrow, probably." He started to step back into his front room, but paused. "Can you... um. Will there be room in here for your... your wings?"