Crowley's a little slow to follow - not least because he'd rather avoid another collision. But a few moments pass, and then there's a muffled, airy contrapunto to the sound of Raguel's wings.

With the moon sinking below the horizon, and the stars darker now, he's little more than a collection of dim highlights - speeding up slightly to draw level with Raguel, and then settling down to the angel's pace, as they beat steadily back across the desert, towards the bright pinprick of their fire.