[There's a click and a rustle and some speaking before the words get distinct enough to actually hear.]

-ooking for.

[There's some inarticulate mumbling in the background]

Wait what?

No, what do you mean-

What do you mean curses can explode?

[More muttering]

You could have told me before I went into-

[There's a click off]

[The sound of clattering can be heard be heard in the background followed by the sound of things falling.]

What the hell...

[In reference to this.]

I -- err. Is this thing on? [ Something grey is blocking the camera's view, leaving only the young boy's accented voice to drift through. Within it there are faint traces of differing places, a little bit of Welsh hidden within the deep North of England for anyone who discerns that kind of thing. The device booms like something is tapping it and then the feed clears, the strip of red and gold at the end of his jumper giving way to the concerned tilt of his face. Remus Lupin is a boy of about sixteen, tawny hair and kind, tired eyes. If you look close enough there's the silver outline of a scar on his cheek. ]

Merlin, this is strange. [ He's seated on the lip of the fountain, sodden robes heaped up beside him. ] I think -- is this like a microphone? [ Thankfully he doesn't hold it up to his mouth, just cradles it with some manner of alarm in his hands. ] My name's Remus. Remus Lupin. I believe I'm lost. And that I might have somebody's ... it must be a microphone. Actually, I hope I'm not too loud. Apologies if I am. I'd like to give it back to its owner. [ He pulls a face at himself, at how bloody ridiculous he sounds and runs a hand through his hair. Droplets of water still cling to his lashes. ] I'd also like to find the exit.

[ He knows instinctively that this isn't Hogwarts, that the air around him doesn't teem with the same kind of magic. But he didn't apparate, shouldn't have been able to. He wants to panic but that will do him no good. He has to remain calm. So he straightens his shoulders and smiles a little, just the vaguest uptick of his mouth. ] Can anybody help me?

[Video]
[Winds buffer the microphone of Piglet's network device, competing with the spluttering cries of alarm coming from the little fellow. Pink, blue, brown. and green mix in a flurry of movement on the screen, and it becomes apparent that Piglet is flailing in a panic amongst branches the upper branches of a very tall tree.]

H-H-H-HAAAALLP!!! H-HAAAALLLLP!!!



[ooc: Poor Piglet has been caught up in some of the aftermath of Hei's Apocalyptic Plotty-plot. Unfortunately, Gusts of Winds are not quite so harmless when it comes to such very small animals like Piglet who can be easily blown away.]