Migration - Tanglewood refugees

[toboggan]

Amber hues which had before garnished these oceanic grounds made a grand re-entrance, this bout around the hound was accompanied nearby his beatnik kin. The time which had passed subsequent to his ambassador visit had spanned that of a week or two, meaning these patterns, the murals which Sunhaven had egressed, were all yet fresh in mind. In the course of his brief stay in the glades fore winding up at the trading bay, the phantoms’ tempers may have significantly retrograded, a driving force in Tanglewood demeriting itself from a detached civilization to a group of castaways, the sum whom were low on food and hope; well, the food part was primarily so for the bulky guardsman, a lack of proper meals inciting his stomach to perform a prolific plentitude of varying hymns, and even an opera or two. His yellow gaze hadn’t had much rest, either, for it was quite the challenge getting some shuteye whilst constantly migrating toward yonder terrain. And so forth, this adaptation of Leroy was vastly different than the previous one, which had paid a call to these folk prior, as of today, the mutt was beat. Buzzing in as crusty eyelids drooped ever-so-lower aloft his piercing oculars, Leroy soon followed suit, and greeted the Sunhaveners with a gauzy smirk; weary muscles only holding it in place and preventing it from rearranging his maw into its true form, a grumpy sulk. He’d scan the distant bunch present, attempting to catch sight of anybody familiar. All efforts ceased to give anticipated results (he’d planned to recognize at least someone), however, for everybody he’d met on his past visit was not present, or those fatigued eyes upon his cheekbones weren’t functioning properly - again.

Those present offered immediate hospitality; most of those present, in truth. Morgan had been attended to by an individual placing medical help at the Tanglers’ disposal, the she then followed by another, a collie - the dazzling breed - equipped with puns that would force even energetic Leroy to gag, and that guy loved a shitty sense of humour. Fast-forward another concerned local and you had yet an additional wiseguy, who obviously lacked the ability to grasp the true nature of the situation. The decision to utterly come to these parts seeking refuge had been a controversial one, as seclusion and self-reliance were traits the typical Tangler admired. Morgan, the leader of the bunch, held his people’s opinions high in regard, Leroy liked to believe, and would not desert the marshland unless absolutely necessary. And it was absolutely necessary, and the mongrel acknowledged the icy samoyed’s care for his crowd. To this stranger questioning the dilemma, the guardsman wished to growl in the direction of, though the action must stay at wished level if these dire circumstances had to work.

An introduction would be in order, he believed. After all, it appeared that none of those of Sunhaven cred present had been in his company before. "’m Leroy", the tall canine mumbled, hesitantly glancing towards Axle and that ghastly bird ere returning his stare to the group, ”’m the ambassador, so I should be familiar t’ some of yas.” The first chance that opened up, he’d hit the hay faster than an eager farmer armed with a pitchfork, whereas the members of Sunhaven were hopefully well rested, Leroy was not. While he was at it, was it possible to take a dip? The aroma of Tanglewood, as he knew, was not a pleasant one. ”Just a warning, snarky-ass comments ’re really starting to piss me off right now. Just a warning.”