"I - er-" Aziraphale lifts his hands in bewildered alarm. What is he doing wrong here? He finally gives ground, taking a nervous step back, right into a tree. Of bloody course.

"But it's a different universe," he explains very patiently, doing his level best not to sound nervous. "Things work differently, we don't have any - any God-Kings, or Primordium, or any of that."

Orisa slithers around him and onto the tree, hissing all the way. It takes Aziraphale only a moment to realize it's not cowardice, but practicality; she's removing herself from reach in case something should happen. And she's scouting for routes of escape or potential allies. Aziraphale feels an unusual burst of warmth for the python. Good for her.