Heritage

Phoebe smiled. It seemed he thought he was a wuss. She laughed, a short giggle. "You know. Angels are meant to be passive, they don't like to fight, or to watch fighting. You are Pure blooded for a reason." She tilted her head slightly, edging forward in her seat so she could see him better. "Being an Angel is a good thing. Okay, so you're dead. But you are the best kind of undead." She wasn't good at being reassuring, but she hoped it had worked.

Obviously he was new, she could almost feel the cling of death still on him. He was unsure and lost, then it clicked. So that was why he kept flicking glances towards Auvrea. He had no idea what to do as an angel. Bless him.

Ha, Bless an angel.. where ever did that come from?

The End

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