Lucifer plucked a cloud down - don't ask how, angels are capable of touching the insubstantial, after all, light as a feather with their bird bones and pure souls - and fashioned a pair of albatross wings.
"Say, Baal. Would these suit a mortal?"
"She is not made in God's image. She looks like Uriel, or Gabriel, or Jophiel, or Haniel. Not like us. But she walks bear, unlike our illustrious sisters. Samael ran away with that failed creation Lilith, and I hear they are raising an army."
"An army to be crushed. You didn't answer my question, Baal," Lucifer said, then quickly pecked Baal on his wan shoulder, sharp edged clavicle the space where Lucifer pressed the seal of his lips. "You go on tangents, butterfly."
