milliways_bar

There are swans in Hyde Park, both black and white. There are trees to sit under and white chairs by the river, and most days, even at its busiest, it's peaceful and green.

Charlie and Darien sit on the grass under a large oak, far away enough from the river that their picnic is not a temptation to the swans. It's warm out--for Britain--and Charlie is soaking up the sun.

It's good to be home.



[ooc: mun's memories of London are fuzzy, woe. obviously she needs to go back.]