Much was contemplating the cold and how long God would leave him in it when the voice descended on him. The shaggy red blond man leapt to his feet, whirling and subsequently falling on his arse back in the snow. Light framed the man, Much had no idea they were the lights from the cargo bay of the ship, to him it was ..light. And here this man towered (since he was on the ground) over him asking if he needed help.
His expression moved from frightened to wonder and then to puzzlement. "I had always envisioned you in flowing gossamer robes with a choir of cherubim surrounding you." His angelic visitor looked nothing like the way the good book had imparted such beings to look. But then again he had seen the proof that not all beliefs were founded in fact by his own eyes.
Much stood, and found the other not so much taller than himself. Also..he was not clean shaven..he bore no wings..no harps... in fact he looked nothing like a celestial body at all. "You," He began, pulling his cap on again. "Are not an angel, are you ,Sir."