From the grave - January 27th meeting

[Morgan]

After what felt like a hundred years since his last bit of activity, Morgan stumbled out into the town square. His pelt was matted down and dirty, his countenance teetering on the border between neutral and lethargic. He wore no bracers, no satchel, no mask and no armor. All he wore were signs that things were simply not right.

"Hey, Tanglers."

He spat out a tired bark, sitting back on his haunches in front of the statue he would have normally climbed onto.

"Looks like it's meeting time."

He struggled to remember what few things he saw happen during the previous month, finding that it was all a dull blur.

"I... I'm..."

He could not quite bring himself to continue that apology, focusing instead on the pressing issue of new Tanglers.

"I'll welcome the new Tanglers."

The samoyed looked around in an attempt to sense new blood, but everyone's colors seemed weak.

"Imali and Lavi, and I think... I think that's it. Welcome, both of you. Please don't disappear."

His tone was one of complete earnest; after a long pause, he returned to his announcements.

"Crow's a Guardsman now, and... nothing else for promotions."

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts to move onto the next announcement.

"The Pitt is requesting an alliance with us now... I'm honestly not sure where to go with it. They've killed some of us. They've tortured some of us. This'd only be a more obvious trap if someone told us straight out."

He frowned, shaking his head once more.

"The story about the Rosebloods's a bit worrying too, but we don't really have much of a reason to believe it, do we?"

He looked around as if to find an answer, but continued,

"We'll still have to think about the possibility of an alliance. It's probably not gonna happen, but it might still be worth talking about."

"I don't really have much else to say. I'm sorry."

The apology was twofold; the rather short set of announcements was hardly helped by his less-than-enthusiastic attitude.

"I've really let myself go this month."

The General leaned back against the statue, choosing to stay around rather than heading home as he normally did.

[teef]

well he dove headfirst into the deep.

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code by spacexual

now, bones would be a fool if he wasn't worried about morgan. his rank was less than favorable for this, something he needed to work on because he wasn't comfortable staying in one rank for so dang long.

approaching morgan, the former doctor tipped his head as he looked the samoyed over, noting everything. he didn't know quite enough about the other groups to tell who was dangerous and who was less likely to stab them in the back. "sir? i would suggest sending a spy or team to get intel on the rosebloods' practices. also, if I may, sir, are you doing alright? have you been sleeping and drinking enough?" worried? why yes, he was.

if one wwashing so poorly, how could the rest of the group receive it? back on the enterprise ... if jim was sick, the entire ship was probably sick too or at the very least made aware of his condition while he was being tended to. sometimes. yeah .... not the best track record. shaking his head to disperse the thoughts, he focused back on morgan, brown eyes dark with his concern. stress could be a bastard and a half and it didnt look like it was helping morgan at all.

lived for the moment, wild and free.

[arrow]

[glow=black,1,400]I GRIEVE IN STEREO, THE STEREO SOUNDS STRANGE ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Arrow frowned at Morgan's current state. He really did look roughed up, sick too. Her ear twitched at his words on the Pitt situation, and she covered her leg scar with her tail gently as the word "torture" left his mouth.

"Get over it, get over it, get over it. You lived! You survived!"

"I can found out myself." Her frown turned into a slight scowl. "I am not afraid of staying with the Rosebloods as intel." Either way, someone was causing chaos and playing games, and she wasn't about to sit and watch the fallout if there was nothing to throw themselves into. The Rosebloods and Pitt could handle themselves, but she'd be damned before she acted like they all needed help from any damn executioner.

After a few moments of her own thoughts, Arrow's expression softened. "Yeah, Morginator. You better take better care of yourself or I'll come over there and kick your ass." She smiled a little, proving it was only a joke on her part, if that hadn't been clear enough. She really was worried though, her stomach was twisted in a knot having to see the walking cloud look so miserable.

[Crow Roux]

[align=center]action — "speech" — thoughts

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It had been ages since the feline heard the familiar sound of Morgan's voice ring across the town, and impulsively his feet rushed across the chilly ground to approach the samoyed. He had not seen him in days, and he was becoming to grow worried, though maybe part of it was his fault. After all, it had been him checking in on Morgan over the past month, not the other way around. It just felt to Crow that he was starting to become a clingy nuisance so he had began to ignore his problems by staying away, but that was most likely his first mistake. He knew Morgan needed someone.

Being promoted was the last thing on his mind as he gazed up with worrisome eyes to the taller canine, his expression unusually soft. "H-hey, you should go get some more rest," he uttered, and as he looked Morgan up and down he realized how... bent out of shape he appeared. It was concerning. "You look awful..."

- ★ -