Xaviers!

"Thank you." He replied, forcing up a sideways smile and tucking the jar against his chest.

"But not to worry, I'll find whatever it is she needs to be back soon." The way he said and the vacant expression that followed suggested he'd repeated that idea to himself many times.

"I can still sense... something of her, in there."

"Right?!" He responded to Sam's observation, sounding vindicated. "I said that too, but I'm just considered the bloody loon with a dead woman in a can.

So I came here. It's easier here anyways. You can't be invisible with clearly visible targets all around you. I wasn't built to work in a group."

"What if..." Heaven help me... "What if we try to find a way to restore her?"

With a knitted brow, the British mountain man hugged his jar to him protectively.

"Are you taking the piss right now?"

"If she'd passed on to the other side, I'd know. She hasn't."

"I believe you on that bit... It's the second part I'm skeptical about."

I could bite her, Tereza thinks to Sam, I'm not sure if that would work or if it's possible in the state she's in, but it's on the table.

"I can find her in there. If I can bring her back, I will. She fell in battle. She's my purview. If I can't, I'll give her peace."

"And what do I need to do?" He asked shifting uncomfortably.

"You need to be willing to take her someplace safer so I can do it..."

"...and wear trousers."

"Well, that's not going to work out.

I don't have any trousers." He laughed. "They're not exactly conducive to going stealth, though I suppose you've never done the walk of shame to learn that one, eh?

I've a poncho." He offered.

"We'll add trousers to the shopping list," Tereza smirks.

"Wooow. What a pair of trouser fascists you are." He ribbed with a good-natured smile.

"A lady wears a long top and we call it a dress and leave it at that. Are you sure you don't work for the Authority?"

"As sure as the moon is full."

"Well then, guess I'd better pack up." He stated, then held the jar up to his face.

"We're going on a trip madam, so you'll have to go back in the bag for now. Apologies." He then packed away the jar and got up from the chair, mindful not to flash anyone as he did.

We're all a bit mad here, Tereza reminds herself as she steps slides back out into the alleyway to sniff the air. "There's a pack in the area," she says back through the doorway with a frown, "Not hunting... yet. We should move."

"...trousers can wait, then." She nods, casting out her mental flock to keep watch as they make their way.

Basil wasn't far behind them, the flounce of his poncho suggesting a skip in his step. He had grabbed a few things to shove into his pack, but he seemed to be travelling light. There were no shoes.

"Where to?"

"Away from here," Tereza says, looking at Sam. "Want me to carry you?"

"I know that's faster, but it's best we stick together. We can make sure there's no eyes on us before we set out for home."

She nods, "I'll hang back a bit and keep my eyes peeled."

For his part Basil remained as quiet as was physically possible for him. His poncho was a soft durable fabric, not a slick plastic one and therefore didn't really make a sound as he moved. Neither did his bare feet. He had a definitively different smell from his environment in the drug den but now that he was among the streets again he didn't particularly stand out from anything else. There was nothing loose or jingly on his pack.

Being a shiftless filthy hobo came with a set of benefits it seemed.

Teresa's sharp senses would spot a cluster of "residents", overhearing them as one poked a stick into an unusually deep puddle.

"What is it Grey?"

"You ever see it's like before?!"

"It's a damn fish, that's what. Look at the size of it!"

Tereza's gaze gets distracted by the people poking at the puddle. Did you pick up on that?

While unaware of the conversation between his two new besties, Basil does not allow his attention to be swayed by the weirdness of the street dwellers. He's seen it before. His hood slowly slides up over the back of his head and shakes a quick 'No' motion, his eyes scanning upward to see if there's anything the other two are allowing their attention to be drawn away from.

"I don't know, but we should probably investigate. I'm not sensing the pack now, so we've got some time," Tereza says quietly, diverting her stride to approach the three people clustered around the puddle.

Basil did not trust strangers anymore, only giving these two the benefit of the doubt due to their association with the University and a deep seeded hope that the ginger one's promise was genuine. As such he continued to give fish people a wide berth and watching for the signs this may not be legit.

If they genuinely found a protein then bully for them, not as if they were going to share.

Sure enough, within the puddle was a very large red fish. It didn't appear to be struggling, just circling in the a water puddle just large enough and deep enough for it.

"What do we do Grey?"

"It's ours!"

"Back off!"

There was a scuffle, but the wielder of the stick won.

"We'll all get a bit. I know everyone who calls this lane home. No strangers!"

The closer Teresa got the scent of fresh water moved through the scent of unwashed homeless and street filth.

There's no such thing as fresh water in alleyways in London, Tereza thinks, wrinkling her nose. "Get your fish and get out!" She growls at the men.

Basil stayed in the shadows but dared to get closer when it seemed Tereza might need back up in case they got the idea in there head to jump her over the damn thing.

His pocho'd visage wasn't exactly invisible, but incredibly difficult to notice for someone who wasn't looking for it.

The Morrigan looks with a bit of puzzlement to Tereza as she approaches the puddle as well.

"Fine by me."

With a single stroke of his stick, "Grey" cracked the fish in the skull and lifted it out of the water. The reason he spoke for this particular alley way now obvious to the group and the residents.

Once out of the water the the puddle began to shrink, leaving level stone work, the fish's species was evident now too. It was a salmon, easily 15 lbs, plenty to feed the alley.

"Come on, Wicks. You always got a fire going, ya?"

"Ya. Sure thing, Grey."

Tereza squats down and taps the stone where the puddle had been, pondering the oddness of it. She glanced at Sam, "You sense anything?"

The flock circles overhead, feeling the area out, and then the Morrigan frowns.

"Aos Sí. The dwellers in the hidden hills."

"Fey," Tereza says, frowning at the ground.

Basil doesn't catch the meaning of the first word, but he's familiar with the second, and a thought occurs.

"You don't suppose the fish itself was a supernatural being?"

For the ravens there were several more bright spots that were now slowly fading in the general area, mostly confined to alleyways and squatter's camps and buildings.

"It was an offering."

"Or a bribe, if you prefer."

"The one who made it is retreating..."