07-27-2019, 05:54 PM
Crow was shouting again. Off in the distance, most likely near the border. Something on the topic of everybody being suspects, inexplicably making mention of alibis in the process. Perhaps, if Crow’s voice was not so croaky and thin, Leroy would take take him a tad more seriously whenever the feline made an effort to be austere. But, given the ludicrous subject matter, the hound sharply snorted as the general’s panicked tone met his folded ears.
Once making the scene, just in time to witness Arrow and Goldenluxury get in each other’s hair, his humorous standpoint soon faded. The desire to make fun of his leader for his questionable phrasing would disappear almost entirely. In comparison to Tena, who appeared at the swamp’s border to discuss the exact same ordeal, Goldenluxury’s arraigning approach proved to be much more hostile than the demdji’s. Arrow’s quips certainly did not soothe the tigress’ attitude. Both of the females’ tones were heavily laced with pride, inappropriate for the current situation - with levels of emotion running high, poor decisions were bound to occur. Now was not the time for animosity - the best possible route would be to remain levelheaded and factual, rather than accusing.
A few pawsteps brought him forward. Brushing past Crow, briefly glancing towards the fellow who was breathing funny, he’d use his presence as an attempt to garner the attention of the pointlessly bickering duo.
"I-I mean this in the best way," Leroy spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically lopsided and uncertain, "but we all ought to fuckin' shut up, okay? Gettin' on each other's asses ain't gonna solve our li'l murder myster, so stop it". The guardsman accepted that his hasty upheaval wouldn’t make him the most popular face in the gathering - it usually wasn’t anyways. Sighing, the mongrel considered his next few words with great care, for he wished not to upset anybody any further. "Two pirates're dead, with 'Anti' carved into 'em like they're some sorta flesh-o-lantern. This happened over in Elysium, too - swamp scent an' all. This shit, we know." His words are soberly spoken through his frowned maw, an amber gaze mainly - though not solely - fixated on the Captain.
He hated this. He didn’t like his current role. But, if nobody else was going to put on their big boy pants and act mature, it was his responsibility to keep things level. "A Tangler ended up dead in the same way," he persists, "a li'l under a year ago, I think. What happened then, and what prob'ly happened now, was some attention-seekin' nutcase thought it'd be funny to off someone without no forewarning."
"Problem is I don't know no attention-seekin' nutcases around here - 'cept for me."
The theory stating that a new member was committing crimes seemed the most probable. If it was someone from the Pitt or Blackguard who was fucking around, then their scent would have at least lingered on Tanglewood turf.
There was one face in the group’s ranks that he didn't initially trust. A face that only recently joined their ranks.
Once making the scene, just in time to witness Arrow and Goldenluxury get in each other’s hair, his humorous standpoint soon faded. The desire to make fun of his leader for his questionable phrasing would disappear almost entirely. In comparison to Tena, who appeared at the swamp’s border to discuss the exact same ordeal, Goldenluxury’s arraigning approach proved to be much more hostile than the demdji’s. Arrow’s quips certainly did not soothe the tigress’ attitude. Both of the females’ tones were heavily laced with pride, inappropriate for the current situation - with levels of emotion running high, poor decisions were bound to occur. Now was not the time for animosity - the best possible route would be to remain levelheaded and factual, rather than accusing.
A few pawsteps brought him forward. Brushing past Crow, briefly glancing towards the fellow who was breathing funny, he’d use his presence as an attempt to garner the attention of the pointlessly bickering duo.
"I-I mean this in the best way," Leroy spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically lopsided and uncertain, "but we all ought to fuckin' shut up, okay? Gettin' on each other's asses ain't gonna solve our li'l murder myster, so stop it". The guardsman accepted that his hasty upheaval wouldn’t make him the most popular face in the gathering - it usually wasn’t anyways. Sighing, the mongrel considered his next few words with great care, for he wished not to upset anybody any further. "Two pirates're dead, with 'Anti' carved into 'em like they're some sorta flesh-o-lantern. This happened over in Elysium, too - swamp scent an' all. This shit, we know." His words are soberly spoken through his frowned maw, an amber gaze mainly - though not solely - fixated on the Captain.
He hated this. He didn’t like his current role. But, if nobody else was going to put on their big boy pants and act mature, it was his responsibility to keep things level. "A Tangler ended up dead in the same way," he persists, "a li'l under a year ago, I think. What happened then, and what prob'ly happened now, was some attention-seekin' nutcase thought it'd be funny to off someone without no forewarning."
"Problem is I don't know no attention-seekin' nutcases around here - 'cept for me."
The theory stating that a new member was committing crimes seemed the most probable. If it was someone from the Pitt or Blackguard who was fucking around, then their scent would have at least lingered on Tanglewood turf.
There was one face in the group’s ranks that he didn't initially trust. A face that only recently joined their ranks.