It has been a while since Aziraphale has properly stretched his wings thanks to Michael crashing into them a month and a half ago. He had kept the feathered appendages cooped up in the metaphysical pocket they seem to always be in since then with the hopes that it would keep them safe while they were more vulnerable. Of course, 6 weeks without materializing seems to have done nothing but make them disheveled. Though they do feel a lot better.

The angel thinks a nighttime flight is just the ticket and is he ever so glad he decided to. The clear skies and the bright full moon makes even this odd world look lovely and the air rushing through his feathers feels like the gentle caress of the sky.

Still, all good things must come to an end and even if he would love to stay in the sky forever, the occasional break is required, so he picks a spot in the garden to land with a graceful FWUMP as his wings brush the path and a topiary.