Morrison hadn't become acquainted with The Typhoon's members or their territory just yet, but island exploration was no stranger to him. After settling down and tying his mediocre boat to the dock, the canine set out on a mission. Paws firmly maneuvered through the islands with ease, pausing to small talk with the locals every now and then, only to set off moments later. Needless to say, the place was interesting. His eyes surveyed the beauty of his new home curiously and landed on the railroad tracks in the horizon as he walked. Pondering it's use, he grew closer.

Given time, an unfamiliar scent mixed with rotten flesh caused his nose to scrunch up and the murmurs of a female met his pointed ears. He pondered leaving. Ignoring her words would be the best option. After all, self-preservation was key after all these long years, but the canine couldn't help it. With a blunt swear underneath his breath, he changed paths. Morrison approached casually from afar, eyes locking with the head on the gate upon noticing. A pit formed in his stomach. So this was the issue? His gaze snapped over to the lion. He hesitated forward and offered a dip of his head in greeting (despite her eyes being closed). Even so, his teeth gritted together. The silence was deafening.

Amidst her trembles, his claws lightly tapped on the metal gate. The metallic reverberation was meant to get her attention, leading into his introduction. "Now girlie, I ain't expecting you to explain why you're here, but if you need an ear, you've subconsciously summoned the wrong guy," he started with. A smug smirk met Morrison's lips. "Although, my curiosity is peaked."

That said, he lingered closer to the stranger with a narrowed gaze. The wolf wasn't aware of The Typhoon's foreign policies, nor did he necessarily care, so she seemed like another rogue to him. A paw nonchalantly gestures upwards towards Stryker's head on the gate, only to crane his head in response. "Who's this bloak?" came his questioning tone. "He must of went belly up and muddled the waters awhile back if he looks like that."

A cackle echoed from the back of his throat. His tail slapped harshly onto the floor and his head turned towards her. A sneer lined his maw. "I'm surprised I do too," he replied back. The wolf had considered ditching her to sulk on her own, after all. If it wouldn't nag at his psyche afterwards, maybe he would have. "Usually I'm not all about that 'mushy gushy' bullshit, mate, but you-" Morrison's claw pointed at her chest. "-look like you need a drink." He could use one too... but this god damn The Typhoon's tavern had the cheapest shit. Drinking piss seems more delectable.

Pointed ears pressed against the back of his head. His head tilted. A soft, disgruntled hum left him. She was laughing. Golden eyes turned back to the beheaded lion on the gate, tracing it's silhouette. Her father, eh? Morrison knew nothing about The Typhoon besides his family and their name, nor Sojourn's gripe about them. "Let me guess, dead cunt did something wrong and got the 'ol boot," came his blunt tone. Truthfully, he wanted to know more. If she was to speak about Stryker's, the canine would have no qualms. There would be no issue if Sojourn took the head either. He was not a snitch. 

"Could say the same for yourself, miss," Morrison answered back. He wasn't one for skipping the formalities though, so he continued with a confident smile. "M'name is Morrison, captain of the seas." A wanderer with no true home. "Visiting family here and there across the area, but settled here for the time being." He wasn't going to call this place 'home' anytime soon though. The Typhoon had a nice environment, but seeing a head on a pike wasn't exactly the best first impression. "Now, who are ya?" It was only fair for her to share after he did. Sharing is caring.