"We have faith." He said to answer her. His own wings were tucked away behind him where he was sitting leaning forward so he didn't squash them. They were simple things, Grey goose wings designed for function and not form. He was no messenger, no warrior. An angel of the Firmament, a builder. Unseen and unheard of. He closed his hands again on his lap. "We have faith, Anathrial. And we do what we can to show it."