Gabriel sat quietly in the darkness, as he was inclined against only moments ago. Semyon spoke to him briefly, which the angel appreciated. As more people came through the ever shrinking gate, and began spouting ideas, Gabriel slowly lost control of his understanding of the situation. One of the men in the group, one that Gabe did not know the name of, seemed to have a deep understanding of the mythos surrounding the white wolf and this thing called Fenrir. Gabe was only able to understand small bits of the conversation since most of it was obscure lingo. 

The two who’d been so bloodied and loving at the gathering, which seemed so far away now, were like that still. They clung to each other like the blood on them did. 

Gabe lifted his head as the man who he did not know mentioned a connection to the divine. The two looked directly into each other’s eyes. Gabe felt a little violated, a tad bit embarrassed, and mostly confused. How did this man, who he’d never met, know that Gabriel had any connection to the heavens? 

Gabe sat at knee-height as everyone discussed important matters, matters he knew not of and had no insight in. He sat there, one leg crossed over the other, like a child. The grown-ups were talking, and so he dipped his head like a child. All he could hope was that soon someone would be able to track the assailant and he’d be able to do anything at all, he’d be useful. Gabriel still felt like he was an intruder and he didn’t know how to rectify that. Well, they didn’t know his name, and he hardly knew theirs, for starters. Gabe felt the inclination to introduce himself, he thought that might help him fell less like he didn’t belong—as if he belonged. And so, with the sophistication of a scolded child, Gabriel blurted out when there was a moment of silence. 

“I’m Gabriel, by the way, pleasure to meet all of you.” He didn’t look up, he didn’t make eye contact with anyone, he simply spoke.