Djura didn't know why he'd had such a moment of honesty with this flustered girl. Perhaps he was hoping for a spontaneous spark of kinship here in this house of God. But what he received was the opposite. Oh he could tell from her tone and the passion in her eyes that her faith was respectably real and her intentions were pure and heavenly, but as a man not "blessed" he once more got the feeling he always got from wizarding folk —

That they thought themselves above those without magic. To the point of deeming themselves superior in the eyes of God. It burned Djura to his core; not because he was proud — for despite his stoic disposition and his numerous lofty ranks, Djura was not the arrogant type — but because God's creation of these magical people was nothing short of hateful. People like this innocent girl had stood by in a sunbeam, feeling all blessed, while thousands of non-magic folk died of causes that could be magically prevented in a trice.

It was in moments like this that he regretted ever letting Isaac attend that Hogwarts school.

Feeling like he wanted to break another statue, Djura paused before opting to reply. Though his instinct was to walk out, for he knew such conversations could come to nothing. Eagles and lions cannot talk to one another, they can simply snap their beaks and shake their manes.

"And did God, upon 'blessing' you, insist that you stand back while those 'unblessed' suffer and die in great numbers?"