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"Tanglewood, get over here! This is important!" called Crow from the base of the statue, his voice harsh and assertive but not resentful; there was a sense of urgency in his tone more than anything else. And so he waited, tail thumping the ground impatiently while his eyes searched for the sight of his groupmates trudging out of their homes. Leroy knew perfectly well what this meeting was about, but the others remained uninformed and perhaps frustrated at the feline's hesitance to act, and he could sense it. They would be thrilled at what he had up his metaphorical sleeves.
"We're gettin' Sam back," he said bluntly when he was satisfied at the size of the crowd. "I know I sat around doin' nothin' for a bit there, an' I apologize for that. Don't really have a plan either unless stormin' in there all at once counts, but I'm confident we can give 'em hell." Crow was not as confident as he seemed, however. He had thought over and over, going in circles inside his own head the odds of charging into the Pitt's camp where they had the disadvantage of going up against the enemy on their own turf, but he was beginning to feel the pressure from his lack of action. If he did not do anything soon, they were sure to snap. "We can go tomorrow. Selby, you're not goin' because you're still not completely well, an' Poet, I don't want you goin' either. Don't need you passin' out on us. You both can watch Rhea an' take care of medical duties around here."
"Hey, an' where's Beck? I thought he liked shit like this."
(raid here)
"Tanglewood, get over here! This is important!" called Crow from the base of the statue, his voice harsh and assertive but not resentful; there was a sense of urgency in his tone more than anything else. And so he waited, tail thumping the ground impatiently while his eyes searched for the sight of his groupmates trudging out of their homes. Leroy knew perfectly well what this meeting was about, but the others remained uninformed and perhaps frustrated at the feline's hesitance to act, and he could sense it. They would be thrilled at what he had up his metaphorical sleeves.
"We're gettin' Sam back," he said bluntly when he was satisfied at the size of the crowd. "I know I sat around doin' nothin' for a bit there, an' I apologize for that. Don't really have a plan either unless stormin' in there all at once counts, but I'm confident we can give 'em hell." Crow was not as confident as he seemed, however. He had thought over and over, going in circles inside his own head the odds of charging into the Pitt's camp where they had the disadvantage of going up against the enemy on their own turf, but he was beginning to feel the pressure from his lack of action. If he did not do anything soon, they were sure to snap. "We can go tomorrow. Selby, you're not goin' because you're still not completely well, an' Poet, I don't want you goin' either. Don't need you passin' out on us. You both can watch Rhea an' take care of medical duties around here."
"Hey, an' where's Beck? I thought he liked shit like this."
(raid here)