Some people don't like my kind. Hunters, people who believe every dumb thing they read. Humans are judgey idiots sometimes, even among themselves. I'm sure you know better than anyone how that in-group nonsense plays out.

[ At his question about angelic blood, she pauses. Gets a series of flashes in her head: a blond with white feather wings, a drizzle of warm blood on her face. And she smiles sheepishly. ]

I was about to say no, but sometimes I get flashes of my past when something relevant is said, so I think I have. No details yet though, sorry. I suppose saying "a blond with white wings" won't get you very far with identification.