He had gotten over the oddities of being fully human the first night, learned how to handle his frail body in a fight the second day, but nothing had prepared him for running in pure fright. It was quite possibly the worst emotion he had ever experience; the knowledge that this was one thing he couldn't fight against, that his option was to run. It didn't agree with the deep-seated instinct to stand against the force of nature and clash with it. As an angel, he had been fascinated by Father's nature, but as a human, well, mother nature could sod right the hell off.

He didn't question where Aziraphale was running to, just following. For someone so exhausted, he ran like a track star.