<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'"><b><span style="font-size: 18px">Gyran Strand</span></b></span>​</div><i>Airport enroute to 45th Queens Ave. <br/>
Mid morning. </i><br/><br/>....<br/><br/>Well polished black oxfords walked the hallway, brushing past folks going back and forth as he headed for the exit. Outside he caught a cab and showed the address, its been almost two decades since he left Winter Haven and he guessed so much must have changed in its structure. Navigating the town won't be as easy as he thought especially with the old map he still carried in his case. He could easily get the new one online but still...he won't discard the old one. They held routes of supernatural significance.<br/><br/>"Oh Winter Haven, This place is at 45th Queens Avenue. Its a two hour drive." The cabby responds smiling warmly.<i>That's what they're calling it now? 45th Queens? </i><br/><br/>Gyran sat behind and placed his case by his side. He turned gaze to the window and watched the scene fly past. His thoughts drift to his old estate down at Orchid Lane, with all this renovation, he feared for its safety. He made a mental note to check on it once he got The Sage from the keeper. He still had the documents to the property which was a consolation, at least it won't be difficult proving his ownership if it has been bought.<br/><br/>"You English Sir?" The cabby asked breaking his line of thought. He turned attention to the man, his eyes hit the rear mirror and he observed his features. He needed to have a shave, he had been so occupied at Uta he totally forgot mundane stuffs like that.<br/>"Pardon?" He asked as he ran his fingers on the little poking hairs on his cheek. The greys were beginning to match the blacks in number. Soon he might be looking like a grandpa, one of the downside to early bloomers. His hair was a beautiful mix of black and grey hairs.<br/><br/>"Your clothes and your accent. You must be an Englishman."<br/>"Ah you've keenly observed well my good man. I am on a vacation you see, always wanted to see Cayman's Waterfall." Gyran sold. He had said same words to the woman at the desk back at the terminal. Although he was hoping to gleam some bit of information from the friendly driver, for the ears of a cabby often traveled far and wide.<br/><br/>"A tourist? Its a bad time of the year to be visiting Winter Haven friend. The waterfalls is a restricted zone now, all of Cayman's forest been sealed off. There's been rumors of giant wolf creatures roaming the woods."<br/><br/><i>Werewolves!! </i><br/>"Any Casualties?"<br/>"Casualties?" The cabby asked, a puzzled look on.<br/>"Victims" he rephrased, he really should put a stopper to the military lingo once and for all. It always finds a way of sneaking into his tongue.<br/><br/>"Oh yeah, two tourists were found dead, ripped apart."<br/>His heart sank, he could only hope they were not Primigenes. "A cop was also found dead last night too." The man continued obviously not a patriotic fellow. His dire stories could easily send a visiting tourist back to his country. If only Gyran was a visiting tourist.<br/><br/>"A cop?" Gyran asked genuinely anxious to hear more. His mind drifts to 18years before, one of Angston's sons had enlisted to be a cop.<i>Is it same...no it can't be!! </i><br/>"Detective Drew Angston, good man, still can't believe he pulled the trigger on himself. Shit happens man, seem under all these calm faces and happy smiles, everyone got a demon they're battling. "<br/><br/>"Oh how right you are." Gyran kept a blank expression as he sunk back into his seat and sent gaze back to the fleeting background. He was an expert in masking and controlling his emotions. Inside he boiled, a mix of anger, guilt and fear. He never should have burdened Angston with The Sage, now if it happened to be with his son's killers, he'd truly be lost for sure.<br/><br/>....<br/>....<br/><br/>From a distance he could make out the house, its old walls and wisened woods. The roof had been changed some, apart from that every other thing remained the same. Unlike the surrounding buildings which have been improved.<br/><br/>"Right there," he points to a spot in front of a bungalow a block from the house and alighted. He didn't want to raise suspicion.  The cops had set up a perimeter around the house, their band showing restricted area still there. He paid the fare and watched as the cab disappeared at the turn before crossing the street to Drew's Residence. With one hand holding his case the other reached for his pocket and pulled out a little vial filled with what looked like blue bubbling gas.<br/><br/>No one was in the premises and the neighborhood was as still as night. A quick cautious glance around before he bent over the band and made for the porch. He could tell from the tracks on the path that a car had just left the premises. Best be quick and leave before whoever it was returns.<br/><br/>He wasn't surprised to find the door locked. Placing down his case, he reached for his pocket and brought out a small Gothic looking key. He inserted the key into the lock and smiled as its took the shape of the lock.<br/>"Seems Uta was worth it after all.." He said opening the door. Picking up his case he went in, his gaze roamed every nook and cranny of the house. He was mindful not to touch anything, the lab guys could easily track things back to him with their thingies.<br/>Having little time to spare, he opened the vial. The blue mist exude out and magnified in proportion. As if carried by its own wind it floats searchingly around the house. Gyran followed its course, till it rested on a painting in the kitchen.<br/><br/>"Bingo!! There you are." He exclaimed with relief.