Clarabelle's distraction had done a lot to ease Gabriel's pain, though she couldn't stop it from creeping into his expression again. Kenspeckle took a quick look at the Archangel's face and then ducked under his wing. Gabriel obligingly moved to shift it upward for him and Kenspeckle snapped, "Don't move unless you absolutely have to, you id--just. Don't move."

He'd just caught sight of what they couldn't see from the front. The feathers had looked grimy, and some had been missing, but now the professor could see the deep tracts in the wings where something with claws had raked Gabriel cruelly. If there had been bone, Kenspeckle knew he'd be able to see it; as it was, he wasn't precisely certain of exactly what he was looking at. It was as if the feathers and the form lent Gabriel an appearance that human eyes and human brains could accept, but under that ...

Kenspeckle shook himself. What he was looking at, he told himself firmly, was a very badly injured being. If Gabriel had been a bird of some kind, these injuries would almost be crippling. The professor glanced at the bottle Bespoke held. Of course. Antiseptic for the divine. Made sense.

"It's not going to be enough," he said shortly, looking back to Gabriel's wings and making some quick calculations. "Fletcher! Go with Valkyrie and get some more holy water. Two barrels." He paused, surveyed the wings before him, saw the way Gabriel's back had been gouged at the joints, and amended, "Make that three. I'll not risk running out halfway through. Gabriel, drink. You sound like you can use it. Unless, of course--" His tone turned dry. "--you'd rather it with tea."

Unseen to the professor, Gabriel grinned at Ghastly, but the relief on his face was obvious. "Plain water is fine."