Shit fire and save the matches

Friendly faces!! Artisan couldn't express how happy he was to see the very distinctive forms of his siblings. In his drunken haze he could tell that a few were missing, but he barely spared a few moments squinting out at the group before deciding he'd figure out who was absentee later. Right now there was a much better issue to be addressed, and Art stumbled himself right up into the center of the fun to bring it to his precious siblings' attentions.

"There's this guy, and he's like this big-" His foreleg lifted and his not-sober body swayed in response, though he tried his damndest to give an accurate height description regardless. It was no use, he could either make his paw hover at too-damn-tall or very-very-short but not at the right size for the furry heathen. He slapped it back down in frustration and then continued. "He has a stupid cool hat but that doesn't matter right now because he stole my beads!" This time both forelimbs lifted and fell rhythmically one after another as he displayed his bare and silent legs for all to see. His stones were a part of him, and that scoundrel stole them. His legs would forever feel empty and his steps would forever be lacking in the happy jingle he'd come to expect from each movement.

Artisan stopped moving and his expression turned pleading, though he also knew that his siblings just might not care as much as he did about his precious possessions. He needed to sweeten the pot. "I may be able to be pursuaded to accept a hot wax in exchange for their safe return." Anything for his momentos.