"Good," was the archangel's prompt answer. "I need to keep you on your toes, don't I?" He glanced down at the sand, and though he was wearing a smile it was rueful, twisted, as if her admiration was the wrong response.

"You mean now or before we got kidnapped?" he asked sardonically. With another snap the sand in her hands became a miniature sandcastle. "It's just creating constructs. Still working up to getting them to stick." The sandcastle crumbled. The most he'd managed so far was a few hours, but he wasn't bothering to put energy into maintaining such trivial constructs as these. Mostly it was just a comfort to be able to build them at all.