Induced by Sam’s summoning yawp, the salt 'n pepper hairs resting along his spine sprang to a standing position, as brainwaves of unease made rounds within the system of a rather gaunt Leroy. Her tone crept up the canine’s craning back, coming to a halt at his fatigued shoulders - applying its mass to an area which felt no weight before. All efforts going into discovering the incentive behind the doecat’s recent contentious attitude towards him came back with negative results, and the reason as to why he felt so heavy because of it was about as clear as a spring morning. Flashbacks of the prior weeks’ events were set to repeat in his mind, as he carefully dissected each scene in an attempt to identify a Sam-souring occurrence, unfortunately to no avail. However she thought he saw her, Leroy couldn’t comprehend - truthfully, the guardsman believed her to be one of Tanglewood’s strongest. But something had happened, and it horribly contorted whatever trust the chaser had for him. To feel guilt as a result of an action you weren’t aware of committing, it couldn’t be described as the best feeling in the world.

Lethargic pawsteps maneuvered the towering hound in the direction of his tribemate’s voice, his pace quickening once the faint outlines of more individuals came into view. A sniff from a set of wet nostrils revealed the identities of his general, his captain, and, of course, she who had been assigned the task in the first place.

Once present, a hearty, albeit awkward ahem declared his presence to the group. His golden gaze discerned that Arrow and Sam were already partnered up, leaving Crow - who sat at possibly a quarter of the wolfhound’s height - without a client to spar with. Brows playfully flaring, Leroy sauntered on over to Tanglewood’s leader, haphazardly plopping himself into a seated position upon arrival, before finally mouthing "You wanna fucking go?"

A slow, somewhat perturbed nod was the most he could muster in response to the alabaster pussycat’s unconventional willingness to spar. It wasn’t in his initial intentions to contend against the general, as he believed Crow to be wiser than clashing with an individual of the hound’s stature. However, not at all did Leroy complain - it was an opportunity he had long awaited, to legally put Tanglewood’s cowhearted headman in his place.

"Probably will," he’d retort, nonchalantly cracking at Crow’s doubtful remark.

A runt in comparison to the guardsman, it was quite easy to knock the gaunt feline off his paws. Utilizing a mere portion of his strength, Leroy swung forearm into his target’s midsection, sending the poor guy barreling into the dirt below. A chorus of harsh haw haws would then erupt from his tight throat, intermittent hacks and coughs interrupting his fit of cynical laughter.

//powerplay allowed by stygian