Raziel was the one who she addressed, though it was likely for her not to notice such a thing - he had his wings incorporeal, and he was less imposing than his once-dark self had made him look. He was no less tall, however, but he didn't exude sheer terror, or sheer power, as he once had. In fact, it was likely that the closest thing he resembled, as far as his presence was concerned, was a particularly old human librarian. However, he was young in appearance, wearing a light colored brocaded linen shirt, as well as a pair of denim trousers, with a pair of well worn leather boots that had fine embossing and stitching. They were all he kept from his prior self, to remind him that he was walking a tenuous line.
"You've found him," he said, no amount of amusement lacking from his tone. "Hello, Kokabiel. Welcome. It's a pleasure to have you here. Please forgive the clutter," He said, vaguely motioning to the tabletop of papers, "I'm working on something rather important. Have a seat."