12-21-2019, 04:03 AM
The sound of chitchat emerged off towards the border. Normally, Leroy wouldn't pay any mind to it. In his opinion, intruding on a pre-existing conversation that he had nothing to do with was a blatant act of discourtesy. If someone truly wanted him involved in their discussion, they'd go out of their way to find the general - if he were to force himself on them, it would be bad etiquette.
Every now and then, though, certain circumstances compelled him to bypass his opinion.
Between three to four voices were picked up by the wolfhound's folded ears. One of the voices did not belong to a swamp-dweller, the mongrel discovered after closer analysis. Even more curious, Leroy swore that he could hear his name being dropped by Miller, denoting that he was of some relevance to whatever was unfolding. Intriguing. Either a clueless chump was dallying about the territory's outskirts, or a possible threat was being exceptionally problematic. Those were his guesses, anyways. Regardless of the scenario's conditions, it had been made crystal clear that the canine's attendance was necessary.
Strides reeking of pride and purpose carry him to the situation, although he nearly trips over himself upon seeing the creature that stood among his tribemates. Eventually, he halts a decent distance away from the stranger, though his brown hues maintain a firm stare on the amalgam of a being. Its appearance puzzled him, for it possessed the qualities of both a goat and a bat - an unholy combination if he'd ever seen one. If he had to associate fellow's looks with something he knew, he'd probably go with one of Tanglewood's heavily mutated fauna that lurked in the swamp. Those made his stomach lurch, and the chieftain of the Halls induced a similar effect.
Leroy caught the tail-end of Redvox's drivel. A party, one which Pittians were attending. That tidbit alone was enough to warrant a no in Leroy's books. Hell, Redvox nearly summoned a laugh from the General, who found the hybrid's naivety astounding. Quarrel-free or no, the Pitt was still an official enemy of Tanglewood - notwithstanding the individual who led the desert-bound tribe. Miller had done well in disclosing the matters at hand, and he was thankful for that. Though if the cheetah's words were not enough to quell the Harbinger's intentions, then the wolfhound assumed that his forthcoming tirade would. "I believe that my comrade made it veryclear, Vinny," he declares acutely, recalling the foreigner's curious nickname. "I hope ya realize how big of a fool's errand this was, askin' us to attend some dinky tea party while in the company of our kin's very murderers." His maw curls into a frown at this, hoping to emphasize his discontent. "I ain't able to tell if your invitation is a low insult to us Tanglers, or just an act of sheer dumbassery; you best hope it's the latter, though, 'cause I don't take too well to insults."
Following his exasperated rhetoric, the General turns to face Feza, Abathur, and whomever else was present. Resentment flared in his eyes, accompanied by his frown, which had soured tenfold since he began speaking. "I will not bar any of you from attendin', so you may go if you please." Forthwith, his field of view focuses on Redvox once more. "But I ain't goin', and if any of my acquaintances have the slightest shred of respect for the tribe that they inhabit, they won't be goin' neither."
Assuming that Goldenluxury was going to be present, he did not doubt the least bit that she'd understand his absence. After all, The Typhoon had been hit harder by the Pitt over the years.
Every now and then, though, certain circumstances compelled him to bypass his opinion.
Between three to four voices were picked up by the wolfhound's folded ears. One of the voices did not belong to a swamp-dweller, the mongrel discovered after closer analysis. Even more curious, Leroy swore that he could hear his name being dropped by Miller, denoting that he was of some relevance to whatever was unfolding. Intriguing. Either a clueless chump was dallying about the territory's outskirts, or a possible threat was being exceptionally problematic. Those were his guesses, anyways. Regardless of the scenario's conditions, it had been made crystal clear that the canine's attendance was necessary.
Strides reeking of pride and purpose carry him to the situation, although he nearly trips over himself upon seeing the creature that stood among his tribemates. Eventually, he halts a decent distance away from the stranger, though his brown hues maintain a firm stare on the amalgam of a being. Its appearance puzzled him, for it possessed the qualities of both a goat and a bat - an unholy combination if he'd ever seen one. If he had to associate fellow's looks with something he knew, he'd probably go with one of Tanglewood's heavily mutated fauna that lurked in the swamp. Those made his stomach lurch, and the chieftain of the Halls induced a similar effect.
Leroy caught the tail-end of Redvox's drivel. A party, one which Pittians were attending. That tidbit alone was enough to warrant a no in Leroy's books. Hell, Redvox nearly summoned a laugh from the General, who found the hybrid's naivety astounding. Quarrel-free or no, the Pitt was still an official enemy of Tanglewood - notwithstanding the individual who led the desert-bound tribe. Miller had done well in disclosing the matters at hand, and he was thankful for that. Though if the cheetah's words were not enough to quell the Harbinger's intentions, then the wolfhound assumed that his forthcoming tirade would. "I believe that my comrade made it veryclear, Vinny," he declares acutely, recalling the foreigner's curious nickname. "I hope ya realize how big of a fool's errand this was, askin' us to attend some dinky tea party while in the company of our kin's very murderers." His maw curls into a frown at this, hoping to emphasize his discontent. "I ain't able to tell if your invitation is a low insult to us Tanglers, or just an act of sheer dumbassery; you best hope it's the latter, though, 'cause I don't take too well to insults."
Following his exasperated rhetoric, the General turns to face Feza, Abathur, and whomever else was present. Resentment flared in his eyes, accompanied by his frown, which had soured tenfold since he began speaking. "I will not bar any of you from attendin', so you may go if you please." Forthwith, his field of view focuses on Redvox once more. "But I ain't goin', and if any of my acquaintances have the slightest shred of respect for the tribe that they inhabit, they won't be goin' neither."
Assuming that Goldenluxury was going to be present, he did not doubt the least bit that she'd understand his absence. After all, The Typhoon had been hit harder by the Pitt over the years.