The chatting and babbling was absolutely deafening to Bezaliel’s ears, almost making it want to tuck the wings on its head away and hide. First, it spread its wings again, its teeth bared in a low hiss, almost like a spacer or a warning. Unlike everyone else there, Bezaliel had some of its own space to deal with, higher up—

The Angel, with a single flap of its wings, launched itself upwards, this time. It landed on a support beam with enough space to act like a perch for the giant creature, peering down at the babbling dumbasses with the five orange eyes on its head. It turned towards that couch with three people congregating on it. Leaning down to speak. “Wheeen… fOOD? When fisH?” 

Mmm. If only these people knew how to understand Kaleidos… or, at least, that time traveler language the bird was fairly fluent in. English was still quite hard for the Angel, and speaking in English frustrated it. Instead of entertaining angry thoughts about English or angry thoughts about all of the people in this poor excuse of a pack, Bezaliel started to preen itself. It’s not like it was going back to sleep— and the importance of keeping its feathers healthy overshadowed its want to dose off, anyways.