In the corner of his mind he can see a small patch of cast-away flowers. He can see a hand carefully plucking free a dead leaf.

"It doesn't deserve to die!"

"It can't die! It can't die!"

"...can you feel their love for you...?"

The light that surrounds him is warm, and he feels his eyes tearing up. He'd missed this and now that he had it he held on to it. "I'm sorry I Doubted Your Will, Father..." He spoke in th Angelican Tongue, the man beneath his hands still limp and lifeless, and he prayed for the man's soul.

Something began to tear through his shoulders, not painful enough to cry out but enough to be annoying. Two tiny tufts of red feathers began to poke out, the edges dusted in gold.

There were also hints of blue, though he couldn't see anything beyond the light that surrounded him.