The reasoning is sound, yet the reality resists: Balthazar is still a demon, despite the distinct lack of Hell, or any superiors breathing over his shoulder telling him to reap souls. He may not have the job anymore, but the powers remain. He is what he is, and every step he takes towards the church in Chimer confirms that down to his greasy demon bones. It is a holy place and it repels him like a high keen, a persistent ache, a slow burning. Balthazar retreats to a park bench to rest.

But the trip isn't totally worthless. Someone... unusual enters the church.

Angels have always hurt him to look at, just a little. A holy glint in the eye, as it were. This had a similar sort of reflection, but not exactly what he's used to. Balthazar stretches one arm out along the back of the park bench and waits. And in due time, he is rewarded by this possibly-an-angel stalking right out and past him into the park. Interesting.

He follows at a decent interval, observing the angel gathering some kind of plant, and slows to a stop about fifteen feet away. Just for safety's sake.

"Didn't find what you were looking for?"