It had been more than three years since he had started a journey which took him away from London, away from Hogwarts, and away from Morrigan.  Three years spent in a Tibetan monastery followed by the Amazon Jungle and then the last nine months deep in the Indian wilds in a lost and forgotten temple.

His hair was long again, almost longer than it had been in his misspent youth, but tied back with a black ribbon.  The sun had baked his skin to a deep tan which showed a touch of his Native American heritage.

As he stepped away from the platform near Victoria Station where the motor coach had stopped,  Kendall Fleetfoot absorbed the sights and smells of Springtime London.  There was something that said cold and damp, but this was far better than the excessive heat and overwhelming humidity of Raipur.  Now it was time to get back in touch with his contacts at the Ministry, and those at Hogwarts as well.  There was more research to be completed, and there were scrolls to be translated.

Kendall turned right out of the station and proceeded to walk over to Buckingham Gate, then the two short blocks to the edge of the Palace grounds.  He stood looking up to the gates and grounds of the Royal Residence before turning past the Victoria Memorial and heading along the Mall through Saint James Park.

It was a bit nippy for the walk, but after the hours spent traveling as a muggle, he was glad to be standing and exercising his legs again rather than all the sitting he had done. The walk to Charing Cross Road would do him some good, and get his lungs used to London again.

(OOC: Hi Everyone! It has been a long time since I was last on AO, but I am back and bringing back my character of Kendall Fleetfoot.  Ex-Charms Prof here at Hogwarts and now Field Researcher.  If anyone wants to plot let me know.  Glad to have bandwidth and be back and active! - Ken)

"You get down from there!"

There was a strong possibility, Aviad thought furiously as he glared up into the tall oak tree, that he was going to murder his familiar.  It didn't matter that the skeletal bird was already dead; he'd find a way to kill it, and then he'd resurrect it and kill it again just to make certain that it knew exactly how irritated he was. 

It was lucky that the weather was so cold today.  There weren't many Muggles wandering through the park, and those that were there seemed to mostly be heading to see the palace at one end.  Luckier still that Tzippori had chosen to end his flight in a tree set away from the crowds, but even so, there were far too many people wandering by for this retrieval operation to be easy.

Aviad scowled up the tree, his fingers hovering near the pocket that concealed his wand, and then shot a look down the trail.  Two young Muggle men about his age were headed towards him -- engaged in conversation, but the chance that they'd stay engaged long enough for him to cast a spell seemed slim to none.  Glowering, the mage shot the pair the nastiest look he could muster and crossed his arms, waiting impatiently for them to pass.

Up overhead, Tzippori hopped to another branch, and then began to gnaw on a wooden nub.  Aviad eyed it darkly, and then stole another glance down the path.  The two Muggles were passing by, but now there was another man coming towards him; this one was a few years older, with long hair pulled back and copper skin.

Harah!  He let out a silent string of rude language in his head as he glared at the man, waiting for him to wander by.  Maybe he should just save time and hex this one, and then seize the opportunity to zap Tzippori down from the tree.  At this rate, it was the only way he was ever going to recapture the thrice-damned skeleton.

The walk along the Mall was dis-interesting.  It was still far too early in the season for any real spring growth.  The grasses were still matted with the fresh green shoots starting to peep through the mat of dark and dying seasonal growth.

Kendall tried to match pace with the crowd, but most of them were headed toward him, and then on to the monument and the Palace gates rather than away toward the shops and residences of this area of London.  The only thing of interest was the gentleman who was hopping about under a tree and glaring at the passers by then staring back into the tree.

After the man first glared at him as if he had committed some offense, Kendall decided to slow slightly and take more notice of what was going on.  The tree was a large oak, and the branches were so interwoven, one could lose any number of creatures or objects into this tree and spend days finding it again. Fortunately for the olive-skinned dark haired man, what he was seeking was not something small, but actually rather large.

The nature of the creature, which Kendall could only believe to be an automaton, looked made of ivory, and with a large beak it was visible from the grey of the bark if one truly looked. ‘Must be a magical construct’ Kendall thought.  Looking about, he noticed a bench that wasn’t too close to the man and his tree-born companion, and headed toward it.  It would afford him a lookout view on the Mall, and enough freedom to help a fellow magical with a discreet notice-me-not charm.

Sitting on the bench, his back toward the tree and the owner of the hopping creature, Kendall crossed his arms, leaning back slightly with his arms crossed across the front of his body, he allowed his wand to slip from his sleeve into his right hand, which was now strategically under his left elbow.  This should allow the fellow magical to see that he was going to offer assistance.  After all one could not have a violation of the Statute on Secrecy so close to the royal palace.

The rhythm had gotten predictable enough to be irritating.  It was cold enough that none of these Muggles were really out enjoying the park; they were merely traveling from one place to another, at a frequency just short enough to nullify his attempts to retrieve Tzippori.  Aviad had expected this latest passerby to follow the pattern:  give a strange look to the man standing in the cold, and then continue wandering through.

But then he stopped, and went to take a seat on a nearby bench.  Really?  The Israeli mage barely restrained himself from hitting himself on the forehead.  It barely helped that the Muggle's back was turned towards him -- he might be able to risk casting a hex, but even so --

And then he saw the wand.

Aviad went still.  There were several ways this could go.  Silently, he considered his options.  If this man was a wizard, he could be working for the Ministry of Magic.  Necromancy was illegal -- and after one look at the skeletal toucan, all one would be able to think of was necromancy.  But he'd never know a government representative to simply turn his back.  Might be a chance then that he was someone else -- just an average wizard, passing through, attempting to lend a hand.

Either way, he was not about to reclaim his familiar now, not until he knew for certain.  Aviad cast a wary look up the tree, and then sauntered across the path.

"Cold for a day out," he observed, as he stopped just behind the man.  Looking close -- yes -- that was definitely a wand, not some stick in the hand of a clueless Muggle.  He pressed his mouth shut, brows knitting as he regarded the wizard.  "You have a light on you, brother?"

Kendall wasn't terribly worried about the man who now stood behind him in the park.  A Thief would not have offered words before grabbing for his satchel and making a run. This man had approached the bench Kendall was on, lightly, meaning he was careful in his step.  The voice was loud enough to be heard and it was accented.

"Terribly sorry but I've never taken up the habit." Kendall turned his head slightly, not enough to directly look at the man, but enough to keep him in his peripheral vision. "I couldn't help but notice that you seem to have lost something ivory up in a tree. Is it charmed or another branch of our sacred arts?" This last was just above a whisper, not that there was anyone within earshot... unless they were a werewolf that is.

"I offer a muggle repelling charm that you might retrieve what was lost.  I can't promise anything should the Ministry happen by." Kendall then reached into a pocket of his coat with his left hand, extracting a book of matches from the last stop the coach had made at a small pub.

"I never took up the habit, but it never hurts to carry some."  He extended his hand palm up with the book of matches laying flat on the surface.  The offer of assistance in broad daylight he knew was risky, but there were so few that Kendall knew in the city now.  He was going to have to start somewhere to rebuild his understanding of the state of the Magical World.