He can't stop himself from scoffing bitterly at the thought that God hadn't abandoned them and that he simply was too busy or incapable of speaking with every one of his children. At first he's just bitter but he soon realizes it's budding into anger, anger at God and anger at the Humans for making him leave them sometime in the future. Before he knows whats going on that question of his sanity and if his wings are real has his ire flaring.

There's that stretch and push of skin and muscle before something strikes the wooden walls of the confining confessional. The noise, though solid is somewhat muffled by his feathers and he curses softly once his anger has dulled again. It was a pain trying to put them away the first time. He can't walk out with them in full view, he doesn't want to draw that sort of attention.

A turn of his head has him realizing that the little slotted window where he can speak to the pastor is covered by long primaries and it takes him a moment before they pull back and his wings fold somewhat uncomfortably behind him.

"There. Now you have your answer." The noise alone should be enough but if he could see flashes of the Pastor next to him then no doubt he could see the dark shapes as they move.

He sighs softly, closing his eyes and trying to remember how he willed them away the first time. He just needs to focus and remember how it felt and maybe with enough concentration they'll go away.