A rank fragrance permeated in the distance. A scent not completely unfamiliar to the hound, yet also relatively obscure.

Sea salt, clear as day.

Of course, Tanglewood bordered the ocean, but the constant stench of swamp concealed whatever aroma the saltwater carried - even right on the shoreline. So, to catch the tang of sodium chloride from within the swampland meant one thing, and one thing only: a visitor. And, judging by the faint hints of seafood, he bet his bottom dollar that the stranger in the midst was of Typhoon descent.

Unbeknownst to his comrades, the guardsman himself had made a voyage of his own to the Typhoon, about a week or two prior to the announcement of the alliance. Quite a bit had been accomplished during his visit - making contact with Goldenluxury, having friendly conversation, and nearly suffering from heatstroke. Hearing that the pirates were now indeed allies boosted his morale by a substantial level, especially after being informed of what their leader had recently done to the Pitt alongside Crow. One thing to remember was that the seafaring fellows were not only allies, but powerful allies. It was best to play good and remain in their favour, rather than causing issues that could stain the two tribes’ relationship.

Peeking his sturdy head out from a thick patch of herbage, Leroy approached the Typhooner with a toothy grin. He was not the first Tangler there, not by a long shot, thus all important words - such as ”welcome”, ”thank you”, and all the other cheesy stuff - were already said. Now, the important matters could be discussed.

"What’s happening, neighbour?", the large canine greeted sappily, ere moving on to another topic; ”Now that the other shit is outta the way, how’s your people handling things on the island? Any news?”