Let's Play a Drinking Game

Artorias grimaced when Artisan once more asked to be released. Unfortunately for them both, it wasn't that simple. The Hallows had demanded the prisoner be taken and they would likely riot if Artorias just let him walk free. Several were already not happy with his decision not to deal punishment to Artisan, but he remained staunchly against holding someone accountable for another's misdeeds. That wasn't justice. Not to mention there was the lingering concern that if he did let Artisan go, the wolf would collapse from hunger and exhaustion before he made it out of Auster, or eaten by another predator, and that was infinitely worse than holding him until Sparrow did come for him. "At this point, I think keeping you here would be more for your own safety. You haven't eaten anything in three weeks. You'd make an easy yet poor meal for some other predator." Artorias motioned to the food on the table with a tip of his snout, as if giving a "hint hint, nudge nudge" to Artisan to eat something. A thought crossed his mind and the azure-furred wolf snickered. "I wonder, would a pirate wolf taste like seafood?" It was a silly thing to think, but the alcohol was evidently starting to make Artorias a little goofy.

As they traded places, Artisan answered his question. He joined the pirates for the freedom. Artorias scrunched his muzzle in confusion. That didn't make much sense to him. He could have been free to do his own thing with or without a pack. Maybe there was something he wasn't getting there... "Artorias," he interjected when Artisan addressed him as "wolf" again. "My name is Artorias. Figured it was only fair you knew mine since I asked yours." Artisan stepped out to gather some of the strewn horseshoes, giving Artorias a moment to gather his thoughts. "I would, by the way. Be on the doorstep of a pack that had one of my family captive. I'd do whatever it took to bring them home as quickly as possible, because that's what family's supposed to do. You stick together, you bail each other out of messes no matter what. Even if I didn't have the strength, I'd find a way. I'd barter, I'd negotiate, I'd beg if I had to. But... like you said, they're one of my own. They rely on me, look up to me, and I can't let them down like that." Perhaps Artorias was admitting too much to Artisan, giving him too much of a glimpse into the young alpha's mind and letting him see the stresses and concerns he faced. Or maybe Artisan just wouldn't give a fuck and ignore him.

Artisan swung and missed with his shot. Trading places with the pirate, Artorias gave a barking laugh and shot a roguish grin to the other man. "Oh, you clearly don't know Briar. Honestly, I don't know if you'd be able to keep up with us with the way we are. You're, what, twice our age? Think you've got that kind of stamina in you still?" Still grinning, Artorias chucked his horseshoe and was rewarded with another metallic ringing as his shot found its mark. "So I was only teasing before, but now I gotta know... what are you good at, Artisan?" Artorias asked with a curious tilt to his head. "Every wolf's good at something. What's your special talent? And don't you dare say 'fighting' 'cause we both know that's a lie!"

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Argent"