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[center][h2][color=ffb6c1]Ante Magnus[/color] and [color=92278f]Harun Fakim Al-Kashir[/color] [/h2]
[b]Year 7,432 of the 3rd Era
3rd Month, 13th Day[/b]
[b]LOCATION:[/b] Deserts of Zidel; Trade City of Rhyad

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	Harun blinked, the shrike’s third eyelid sliding across its pupil with an audible snip. Words were being exchanged, and he was sure the young one addressed him, but the language was foreign and strange… which meant that he had likely been gone for longer than he thought. He would have to address that later. For now, though, he hopped up on the girl’s finger, cocking his head and chirping once. A caravan would be good for travel, and as a shrike he would eat less than a mouse. All the thief had to do was ingratiate himself.

	The bird hopped on then.  It seemed fairly tame, a pet of sorts?  Ante looked around but there didn’t seem to be anyone anticipating it.  Most birds she ran into would run away quickly.  [color=ffb6c1]”What type of birdie are you?  It’s pretty.”[/color]

	[b]”A shrike, I believe.”[/b]  The Caravan Leader said, staring at the little bird.  It was interesting for him to see a bird.  [b]”Odd place for a bird, but there is a city coming up so it might not be so odd.”[/b] He added.  Looking ahead he noted something in the distance.  [b]”Ahh, yes, a city I spy.  Rhyad, it is called.”[/b]

	The shrike turned its head towards the leader of the caravan, cocking it as if confused. Letting out a small scree, it flapped twice and took off, soaring towards where the tanned trader had pointed. Harun couldn’t understand this language, it had been too many years since his death. But all the same, sure enough, that was a city. Not one he recognized… most likely nothing to be surprised at, there. He needed to find someone who could tell him the date, grab Xil’Gurash from wherever he was, and then he would be on his merry way to Bervenia.

	A city which he shouldn’t have known about… That was odd. In his head, he saw a clear route to the city from where he flew. It would only be a week or so, less if he were something a little more conspicuous… He shook his head. Maybe this had something to do with his return to life. He had lived for long enough to know when something wasn’t a coincidence, and this sure as hell was no coincidence. Leaning to his left, the shrike spiraled back down to the girl’s camel, landing with a muffled thud on her shoulder. The caravan was headed that way; he may as well travel in style.

	It wasn’t too far, and soon enough the pack of traders crested the final dune on its way down to Rhydal. The city was… Well, it reminded Harun of Cordial. It was busy, though not with walls or guards or glyphs. Most likely, this one existed as part of whatever government that had exchanged places with Kalem over the years. There was a small pang in Harun’s chest, knowing that things had changed so much. Still, he had business to attend to and spirits to speak with, there was no time for moping. 

	Entering the city, the shrike split off, letting out a small cry as it flew into the streets. Tucking into an alley, the bird disappeared, replaced by a dusty tomcat that walked through town. The thief searched and searched, soon finding what he was seeking. The caravan had kept him well enough, and it wouldn’t hurt to leave a small parting gift.

	Twenty minutes later, Harun had found the girl, spiraling down once more as a shrike. He let off a greeting as he descended, catching her attention as he settled down beside her once more, this time a long strand of red gossamer trailing from his tiny beak. It seemed to suit her color scheme, and he offered it up to her with another chirp.

	The bird had disappeared as the neared the town.  [color=ffb6c1]”Ahh, bye little birdie.”[/color] She said as they pulled into town, a few villagers came to the Caravan, knowing them apparently.  The exchanged pleasantries a bit.  The diminutive form of the language Harena used was pretty similar, at least enough for Ante to talk pretty normally.  It seemed as if it were preserved well.  It might have just been small packs of people though.  

	She still wasn’t too sure about the current nations.  Harena was gone. . . Naasha?  In the middle of thought, the small bird from earlier came down holding a nice red ribbon.  [color=ffb6c1]”Oh, you’ve come back little guy and what’s that you’re holding?  For me?”[/color]  This was definitely not something she had expected but she grabbed it from the small thing.  It matched her hair well at least and seemed to go with the rest of her outfit as well.  It seemed her charm even worked on small animals!  [color=ffb6c1]”Why thank you, little Shrike!  I appreciate this present much!”[/color]  There was a fairly large smile across her face now. 

	Grinning internally, Harun took off. Hospitality was always welcome, regardless of what he looked like at the time. At the end of the day, a ribbon for a place to sit was one of the better trades he had made. Honestly, the girl had reminded him a touch of himself when he was a child… though infinitely cleaner. And nicer. Probably a little less eloquent. He really needed to stop comparing people to himself.

	Regardless, he had repaid a kindness with a kindness, and as always the winds were with him. Tucking into an alley, the shrike left as a young man wearing traveler's clothes, exchanged with a bit of gold the thief had pilfered from a fat merchant when she wasn’t looking. The caravan had been nothing but good to him, no reason to be rude. Things were looking up for Harun. He was no longer nude, he had coin at his side… now he needed a knife. With a practiced hand, he plucked one from a man on the road, slipping it into his own belt when no one was looking, ducking into an alleyway, walking out the other side as a tall, dark woman with no knife at all. Old habits died hard.

	Still, there was plenty of work to be done, and information to be gathered. He couldn’t speak the language of the locals, but spirits never changed, not really. The smile spread once more at the corners of Harun’s face. There were bargains to be made.

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	Once again, a glass shrike set off from Rhyad, this flying with purpose. Outside of the city borders, Harun didn’t bother with subtlety. He changed mid-flight, the small body of the shrike spreading out to the giant wingspan of the albatross. He was making excellent time, had brightened the day of a friendly young girl, and soon he would have an old friend at his side. At times like this, Harun couldn’t help but to wonder what could possibly go wrong.