A well-practiced tuck 'n roll followed a tumbling onto his feet. The momentum of being thrown out by the quickness of travel by portkey felt just unpleasant enough to register as pleasant to him. So when Cutty landed, feet sliding with resistance against the velocity, it was with a smile. He adjusted his backpack and caught the tail end of Professor Flamsteed bending over into the bushes. The Astronomer Royal was then straightened up and looking a little Viridios to Cutty with the leaves in his hair.

Maclaren, though. They had a local guide. They had a local guide when everybody there had been to Scotland and lived there for 3/4th of a year. Were they telling them everything? Full and upfront?