Azurael, still somewhat green around the gills, gave T'vor an odd look. Something like a cross between embarrassment and emotional pain. "I never had time, remember? Also it was a matter of wrongful pride. A weather witch getting air-sick? Imagine that!?" Azurael said the last part with a half smile.

"Why are [i]you[/i] here?" Azurael asked Grim. She hoped he wouldn't make any comment towards her air-sickness.

Damien looked on in interest. The Reaper petrified him and he felt sure that Grim wasn't saying something. Or it was probably the creepy death-like atmosphere emanating off the Angel. Damien decided that rather than looking at the creepy, and quite frankly frightening, Angel he would busy himself with the controls and display in front of him.