Gabriel gazed into his glass for a moment, gaze ostensibly fixed on the ruby-red wine. In reality, he was gazing far back in time, at priestesses in ancient temples, pyramids towering before him, the setting sun turning sand dunes a blazing red, and minarets reaching towards the stars.

"The Middle East," he answered softly. "Egypt, Babylon, Arabia... I loved the cultures there. It's a pity they've changed so much. And as for my wings, it depends on the lighting, really. I suppose they might have seemed pure white to Loki." He grinned at the bartender. "Would you like to see them? You can decide for yourself, then."