The little archangel frowns, ever so slightly, but it's hard for him to reject a statement coming from an older, closely-related supernatural authority figure. He tries hard to work it out. If he squints, he can see the space where the halo and the wings should be.

Aziraphale isn't exactly like him, but she's very close.

"Father made you?" he asks, still wary, but at least open to the idea. It's easily within God's power and the concept of others is nice. Certainly less lonely than his current existence.