"That was quick," he says, as though reading Aziraphael's thoughts. Or perhaps simply the small, directed pulse of power from the angel, rippling the existence around them and then gone.

There are things he needs to ask about, and so overwhelmingly many details to discuss; what to do, and who to contact, and whether the shepherds' quiet loyalty to their Prior and their usual discretion will overcome even a bona fide resurrection, and - and all the whole rest of the 'verse. But it can wait. All of it.

With a tilt of his head, the sort that says well, come on then, he turns and starts to make his way down to the gatehouse.

(He's slow, disguising it as a stroll, and his shoulders are still hunched against the breeze - but his face is lifted up to it, and he keeps turning to sneak glances at Aziraphael out of the corner of his eye.)