Andrew never knew just how long a city block could be. He's trying not to think about how much farther he has to go before he reaches the rebel base...or about how he's going to cross all the streets between him and the park. The other Andrews were nowhere to be seen by the time he took shelter under a water spout; even now he keeps glancing around for them, but they've apparently all gone other ways. Bloody typical.

The thought does occur to him when he reaches Park Avenue that maybe, just maybe, he ought to have gone back to the intersection to try to find the others. How he's going to get across he doesn't know, but then again, the fact that he immediately ran off means they probably all did as well. He surveys the area from under a mailbox as he tries to make up his mind what to do, only to be interrupted by a sudden croak behind him.

Giving a little jump of surprise, Andrew spins on the spot, ready to bolt. When he sees the bird his fears are not exactly allayed. "Shoo!" he hisses. Awkwardly, he takes a tentative step forward and raises his arms, trying to make himself look big and spook it away. He can hardly come out from under the box with it there, after all. "Go away!"