Witches don't make witchlights. At least not in my reality. Only those with -

[His voice trails off mid explanation as Alec begins to grasp what the being had said. Angel of the Lord. His expression turns from stunned to fearful before he realizes that if an Angel wanted to kill him, he'd be dead, not having a conversation with him.]

I think our worlds are very different.

[No Angel from his reality would fight beside mortals. Even if they did, they wouldn't act like this being did, helping wounded mortals or suggesting healing Alec's injuries.]

Where I'm from demons don't need vessels.

I'm part human. [The words feel awkward as he's suddenly unsure if he should admit what he is, remembering the lake and the blinding, terrifying glory of an angry Angel.] And part angel.