Spider, an interesting name to be sure. They did remind him a bit of a spider he supposed - the markings under their eyes, almost mistaken for a second pair at first, were bizarre and unique. Such bright coloration on a dark coat, mimicking something else they had - he had never seen anything like it. “No kidding? I am as well.” Their grin is a bit off putting though, and Charlie clears his throat as he gets to his paws. “Maybe we can train sometime. For now though I think I –” As he was trying to come up with a way to excuse himself, he hears a familiar voice calling to him.

Deluge.

Charlie gives a last nod to Spider. “Excuse me.” He turned away then, approaching Deluge and noticing the spark in her eye. It spoke of mischief, but after their last meeting he was certain it wouldn’t be anything to cause true harm to him or anyone here. If Deluge wished to harm him, she could have. And though he had listened to his father, taking to heart the misdeeds of the pirates, he found himself unable to be wary of her. How could he be, when she was here with his brother? A brother who was unharmed and with their father. It wasn’t as if Sirius was chasing them out… so they were allowed to be here. His brother was invited - it was his birthday too.

“Can’t say I have.” He would come to sit near her, a warm smile on his lips. “You came with a great gift anyway.” His gaze shifts briefly to Dread. He looks well, though perhaps a bit anxious being here after what had happened. He was just glad the two of them were there. He lets his gaze shift back to Deluge. “But this whiskey must be good, if you’re coming with it. Is it a favorite of yours?”

"Speech," 'Thought.'

She followed Charlie's gaze to Dread and his father and her face grew just a bit softer as it fell on the younger of the two. She wasn't here to mend bridges, but he'd wanted to make an appearance for his sibling's sake so she'd do her best to keep... as in the lines as her nature would allow. When he asked if whiskey was her favourite, the mischief was back, grin growing wide. "Only thing I'll drink... Well, this'n rum, but I don' wanna start a brawl..." She answered good naturedly. "'S got a bit more fire'n wine or mead, so don't leave it sittin in yer mouth, straight down." She passed a bottle over and tipped hers own back quickly in demonstration, her practiced ease sparing her a spluttering fit. It hadn't always been that way, but she was used to it now. After all, she'd been sneaking the good stuff since before her first birthday.

"speech"