Delivered via eagle, a basket of goods courtesy of the Typhoon had turned up on the wetlands’ outskirts recently. The fish-scented wicker container brought earthy herbs, picturesque flowers, and a free pass to some festival of colours. As fond as he was for the Typhoon’s pirates, the occasion itself initially wasn’t enough to entice him. However, the promise of free grub was not one easily withstood, and the guardsman eventually found himself caving in to Goldenluxury’s invitation. Glow-in-the-dark paint wasn’t necessarily his forte, but the idea of conversing with his seafaring allies, engaging in sparring sessions, and chowing down on some aforementioned free food would gradually grow on him.

Roughly two months ago, a fatigued Leroy dillydallied at the brink of his allies’ territory, heavy heat-fueled pants spewing from his maw.

Today, he eagerly lumbered about deep inside the Typhoon’s land, delirium buzzing around his brain while he awaited the shindig’s commencement.

A sensation of elation permeated within his system when attending parties, and that sensation he thrived off of. A sizeable number of days sat between this bash and the last, and the lack of raving it up severely dampened his mood. Since the festival of colours would go down as his biggest party to date, however, so in his eyes it made up for the lengthy absence of partying.

He’d spot the captain down the way, doing captain things as per usual. Amber hues darted in just about every direction, scanning the coliseum to identify any other attendees - failing to do so in the process.

Last time he saw the tiger, she frantically stood at Tanglewood’s border, an injured Crow Roux by her side. Now, the setting was an empty coliseum, and at the current moment, it was just him and her.

An awkward grin worn upon his face, he’d mutter a phrase along the lines of "hate being the first one," as he closed in on the lone leader. Once his strolling came to a close, he parked himself at the nose of the large feline.

"Looks like ya did good!" Leroy exclaimed merrily, dipping his noggin into a respectful nod whilst his gruff tone rang throughout the setting. "The gig usually this quiet, Ms. Goldenluxury? Or did I come a tad early?"



Though he spoke lightly now, there were some words to be had with Goldenluxury. Words surrounding specific recent events. Recent events that he was most displeased with. Mayhaps it was most unwise of him to do so at such an occasion, yet Leroy knew her to be the only other person to share his opinion on the topic.

Birthed by the female’s buoyant retort, yellow-ish pearly whites revealed themselves in a toothy grin, sending a gaunt tongue out the side of the guardsman’s maw. A lively soul such as his coupled well with one of the same sort, and Goldenluxury’s upbeat disposition was no different. Her presence alone imbued the atmosphere with enough spirit to enliven even Leroy - a feat that went unparalleled back home in the swamp. A miniature chuckle of his own was dispatched in response to the one that followed the tiger’s amusing riposte, quieting up in time for her next few words. As she made mention of her own comrades, the hound glanced in all directions of the arena in hopes of spotting someone familiar. Through a winced gaze (which his partially-disabled eye did not aid in any regard), the male managed to locate faint outlines, ones belonging to felines, nearing the munchies table. If not for the swampy stench that they brought with them, he would have never been able to discern their homeland.

Though reassuring, as they had pushed aside the awkward vibes attained from being the sole partygoer, the Tanglers’ attendance would prove inconvenient for the time being. Going about the next step in his intentions may seem fishy to the unaware, and that’s the only type of attention that he did not desire.

The tigress’ prolonged rubberneck gave him the inkling that she was quick to catch on. She knew very well that he had more to say.

"Good t' hear you got everything in tip-top shape here, Cap," the mutt wholly renewed, before continuing in a pessimistic tone, "shame it ain't the same where I'm from." Without allowing his target a chance to reply, Leroy abruptly leaned in, inching his noggin towards the tigress’ left ear as far as his neck allowed.

"Stryker showed up the other day," he muttered in a harsh whisper, "and Mr. Crow let him escape unharmed."

No shame was felt while selling out his leader.

Besides, who was the true traitor? Leroy, for sharing tribe affairs with someone they didn’t concern? Or Crow, for refusing to off a war criminal on the spot?