Why must it be so stormy tonight, you think. At first, the loud thunderbolt directed at your town’s square is just a normal one, but as it causes the ground to rumble, you and the other villagers panic. At here are screams mentioning a man, and some pleading for you to check it out. Being the medic of this small village, the one who cures illness and wounds, it is your duty to follow through with the requests.
You slowly emerge from small your hut to see what this large thundering storm did. From your distance you can see a strange golden light, but then you see a wing, two of them, large feathery wings laid on the floor. You walk closer in an hurry, and it’s what appears to be an angel. The angelic man appears injured, laid out on the grass in an obviously unnatural position.
You had taken him back to your hut, tending to his wounds and ensuring he was alright in his unconscious state. Azrael is met by the warm light of the sun, and the comfy bedroll beneath him. He yawns, stretching out his wings. He glances to the side, seeing your figure searching through herbs, spices and medicines.
His golden eyes narrow, and as much as he wants to be on guard, his slashed waist prevents him from doing that. You are immediately bombarded with questions, his voice embracing cracking due to his condition,
“Who are you? Why am I here?”