LIKE THE MOON SAYS TO THE DARK — The air smelled like wet dog, which was never something to be pleased about when you were out on a morning stroll. The small feline had been padding lazily through the sand, leaving small footsteps in his wake, when the sudden scent of wet fur and feathers hit him, temporarily causing the privateer to flatten his ears. Despite this, the sound of voices drew him closer, over to where the other male was somewhat loudly announcing his presence. Jaime and Goldie were already present at the scene, which honestly was a positive for the bobcat. He didn't trust himself to open his mouth without saying something rude about the other's scent – although honestly the Typhoon's natural salty scent clung to his fur, so what leg did he really have to stand on? Catching the tail end of Jaime's greeting, Michael found himself smirking slightly as he came to settle beside Goldie – keeping a bit of distance between the two of them as not to crowd the captain, "A clan of somewhat friendly pirates, depending on who exactly you end up asking." His tone was light and joking, although it was true. After all, Tanglewood would probably describe them as a trusted and friendly ally. The Pitt, however? Would probably describe them as a bunch of bloodthirsty bastards. Although that second part may have been debatable by now, considering how many of their children had decided to just go and mingle with the desert dwelling group. — WE WILL NEVER BE APART