The flight to Brightford had been an easy one, and he understood why this particular spot had been chosen, or he assumed it had been. That hardly seemed to be the main concern. Once he was certain his wings were gone, retracted back within himself, and the knock was answered, Michael gave an almost curious look at the smile. He could see it, as soon as he'd landed, but it was a cruel reminder of his severance from Heaven that he had not noticed sooner.
He gave a small nod, looking around for a moment before back to Duma.
"You're an angel." Clearly Duma had been able to tell, it made sense, other conversations made sense as well. Other angels. That wasn't really shocking in itself, they had been everywhere in some form where he was. Though, he had not quite expected to find them here. Duma hardly seemed...a threat, though. This whole place had seemed mostly at peace, unlike what he had known. "You knew." He continued, moving his hands behind his back. "You're different."