welcome, welcome | returning face

[Morrison]

Ah! See, that made sense. He was tempted to pry on their previous alias, but seeing he didn't know their current form, the captain merely pushed the thought aside. There was no need to prod. They would prove their new loyalty with time and effort, of course. Their spill of information only proved their former allegiance, even if they could probably get it from some random animal, but he didn't necessarily mind. Morrison happened to frown at the mention of Winterhymns though. His family had long disappeared to do other things, although he wasn't sure they were necessarily better. Nevertheless, he kept his head high. The captain was just subtly glad to have someone who knew what Palm Glades looked like before it's destruction.

With a cheesy smile, the captain continued on his usual spiel to newcomers. "New name, new beginnings, new group," he jokingly commented. "That should be enough. Welcome to The Typhoon then, Ciabhan." A paw gestured behind him towards the group's innards. Thankfully, there was a lot more to explore than the rotting head of Stryker on the railroad gate. Although it was weirdly interesting...

He did forget to introduce himself, didn't he? The canine was so focused on the stranger's clarification that introductions went out the window. He straightened himself out and threw his head upwards. "M'name is Morrison," he started off with. "Captain Morrison. I'll be your leader for the time being until I die valiantly in battle." A cackled echoed outwards. For a joke, it was rather dark. Perhaps he could live out to retirement or die of natural causes, but nope. The fate of a leader usually ended up in disappearance or death, sadly. Despite the reality of the situation, he dreamed of other things.

Orange eyes shifted out towards the horizon. He craned his head in thought. "Perhaps we could go for a lil tour, Cia? Bhan? Ciab?" came his offer as he contemplated nicknames.