Well, they had had the time to sleep off their injuries and all that jazz, and Sparrow had been spending time gathering the best of her goods to bring back to the castle. It was time to trade some things for Artisan. Yeah, they had raided, and yeah they had planned to take stuff, which is why offering stuff in exchange was the perfect balance. They raided, they got their guy stolen, now they give goods, get their guy back. EZPZ. If he accepted, they could go on their merry way, water between the landmasses and all that. If they didn't then things just got complicated and Sparrow would rather not think about it. They hadn't even gone for any cool maims, so it shouldn't be a huge deal. Sparrow shook her fur which was roughly groomed and adjusted her hat while Pongolo chittered happily on her shoulder. Friar pulled the wagon behind him with the goods, elaborately covered by the nicest large-leaf of elephant ear she could find. When she got to the border, she had the wagon parked and called as loudly as she could, "ARTORIAAAAAASSSSSS." She giggled in her mind. She'd said "ass" to an alpha.

Careful paws ran the smooth whetstone down the length of his sword, eyes following the intricate patterns of the Damascus steel blade as he sharpened the edge. A small, content smile pulled on Artorias' lips, overjoyed to once more have his sword back in his possession. It felt like a part of him that had been stolen had finally returned home. And speaking of things returning home, the loud bellow of his name from somewhere beyond the castle walls caused obsidian ears to prick up. He recognized that voice. Sparrow, the pirate alpha. For once, she was actually calling from the border, observing some modicum of pack decorum instead of just skulking around his lands or waltzing right in. A relieved sigh fell from the Aegis' lips; he'd grown concerned for Artisan's condition over the weeks he'd been here. It was time for bygones to be bygones and perhaps a smoothing of relations.

Slipping his sword back into its scabbard, Artorias slung the blade over his body and headed not for the border, but instead for the wine cellars. He navigated the rows of stacked bottles, moving all the way to the cabinet at the back that housed the finest in the Hallows' collection. The last time he'd been down here while preparing the drinking game for Artisan he'd spotted a bottle appropriate for this moment. He pulled a bottle with an aged label on it, decorated with a Jolly Roger, aptly named Black Pearl vintage, though he couldn't read the words to infer the meaning. He'd snuck a taste to make sure it hadn't bittered, but was instead greeted by a smooth blood red wine mellowed with the taste of blackberries. Artorias took the bottle in his teeth and made his way out of the castle and across the grasslands in the direction of the border Sparrow had called from, Corbin swooping through the air above him while Argent picked up the slack at the rear.

He spotted the speckled woman waiting with her companions, the monkey pulling a covered wagon behind him. That was curious. Quirking a brow upon his arrival, Artorias came to a stop and seated himself casually before his fellow alpha. "I was beginning to wonder when I'd see you again," he spoke in jest. He glanced about behind the Pirate King, scanning the forest for signs of her pack. "I don't see the rest of your crew, Captain Sparrow, so I'm guessing you're not here to set fire to the castle just yet." A wry smirk touched the younger alpha's lips. He wanted this mess to be put behind them and to see if they couldn't end this day with their packs at least on amicable terms.

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

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
____________________

The man appeared without much wait and remarked that he was wondering when he was going to see Sparrow again. Sparrow made a big deal of rolling her eyes, "Cillllll, my wounds are barely healed. Did you really miss me that much? Bold for someone who wouldn't even face me head on." She gave him a sharp smile- banter for banter. He mentioned he didn't see the rest of her crew and assumed they weren't here to set fire to the castle just yet. "Oh, no, they're just at the other border," she said. "I'm here to distract you with the trade of your life." She cued and friar uncovered the wagon with five shiny bottles and the large jar in the center. "Two of these are state-of-the-art moonshine, not made by us, found on my travels to an undisclosed location." Friar wafted his arms over the bottles and Pongolo made a little 'oooh, aaaaah' at him in mock amazement. "Next is three bottles of world-class liquor, dark and spicy with a kick that will make your head spin. I couldn't quite call it a whiskey or a bourbon- what's even the difference- but something entirely more." Again, friar gestures, the parrot swooned, and Sparrow moved on. "The last is a jar of incredible black sands, said to have been crushed rock from a lava-spewing volcano long ago. While impressive in itself, there's something deep within the soulless sands waiting, if you would like to trade." Friar held the jar above his head with great effort. Pongolo landed atop the skin tied over the top. "All this, and all I ask for is one lousy drunkard in return- you see, we need him to swab decks and sing songs lamenting my previous lovers." So far, the man had done neither, but oh, he would. "So... whaddya say?"

Artorias gave a short bark of laughter. Now that the shock of the midnight attack and anger had burned out of his heart, Sparrow's sarcasm and wit were almost endearing. Almost. Whether that remained that way would be determined by how this parley went. "You know, in some strange way, I did. I kept looking over the borders expecting to see you skulking around some more. Imagine my heartbreak when I didn't see you leering in the shadows." Artorias didn't often get to clash wit for wit with someone in banter like this; it felt like an exercise in sarcasm without being insulting to either side. "Tell you what, next time you want a raid, how about a little coordination and we can see about squaring off. I know my fighters would enjoy going up against your crew again—just maybe not when you're coming at us in the dead of night." Artorias had no issues with raids if the pirates had truly wanted them for fun and not malice—but fun was only had when both sides were enjoying it. A surprise attack in the middle of the night had not been fun for any of his wolves.

Another chuckle from the obsidian and azure wolf while Sparrow jested about distracting him, then enticed him with the "trade of his life". The monkey then unveiled what was inside the wagon. Artorias eyed the jars while each was introduced in much the same way a merchant might try to peddle their wares, with fanfare and exaggeration. Jars of exotic moonshine from far-off lands, a dark and high proof liquor, and a jar of rare black volcanic sediment that housed another gift within if he traded. And all she wanted back was Artisan. Artorias chuckled again, idly swirling the bottle of wine in his paws. "Hmm, your offer is very tempting, shrewd captain," he said, having thoroughly enjoyed the theatrics of Sparrow and her companions. "As much as it would break my heart to give him up, I will give you Artisan back. The poor bastard misses you all terribly. Though he might miss you a little less when he learns he has to memorize the sordid details of your love life." But before that, he had things of his own he had to say.

Artorias lifted up the bottle to Sparrow, giving it a little shake so she could hear it slosh about, filled to the neck with the high quality red. "This is my gift to you. An apology, for taking the raid too seriously and escalating things. Artisan... he's taught me some things. If you'd consider it, I'd like our packs to not hold grudges. I think we could learn a lot about how to enjoy life to the fullest from you, and I think having a safe place to come to if you need aid could be valuable to you and your wolves too." Artorias rose to his paws and moved over to Sparrow, placing the bottle at Sparrow's paws. "It's one of the finest vintages in our cellar. You can keep it for yourself or share it with your crew. I know we'll likely never be allies, but I'd like us to at least be amicable. So, if you promise us no more sneak attacks out of the blue, I'll promise we'll chill the fuck out when you raid us for fun or booze or whatever the hell it is pirates like. My fighters love a good clash as much as anyone—just not when we think our home is actually under attack."

Artorias offered his paw out in truce, the healing scars from where Artisan had stabbed him visible just above his wrist. "Do we have an accord, Pirate King Sparrow?"

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

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
____________________

"You were heartbroken when I wasn't in the shadows, but my feelings don't matter when I go through all the effort to plan a raid just to see you and I don't even get to taste your own blood?" Sparrow feigned hurt as best as she could. He offered that next time, she warn him  and they could see about squaring off. She huffed, "But sneaking in the middle of the night is half the fun!" She protested only half honestly. "Can I just give you a vague season or moon cycle?" She deflated, and worked her best doe-eye-flutter thing that Hanako used to do so well.

He said he'd give back Artisan and that he had missed them (Aww) and that he might miss them less having to know the "sordid details of your love life." Sparrow snorted, "It's a short list honestly, and Friar loved to tell it in it's entirety over fire and some alcohol- really it's a fun time."

He apologized to her in what Sparrow could only feel was something way too intimate for her normal demeanor. He held up a ruby red jar and Sparrow thought to joke excitement and pretend to believe it was his blood, but he was so into it and full of possibly real emotion and Sparrow couldn't find it in herself to interrupt nor reciprocate. Dumbly, she accepted the bottle and held it somewhat more softly than the others she had carried previously. "Pirates can't have real allies," she said, her mouth more dry than the sentences she found falling out of her mouth. "It's part of the territory- we live to piss people off." She wanted to tell him that his land really had been under attack, as much as it would be for any raid. She wasn't upset at their response, she had just come to right it for now.

Sparrow sucked in a breath when he held out his paw, wondering how she got into this position and mentally making a note to chastise Artisan for the emotional damage later. "Fine," she conceded. "We won't attack you out of the blue next time, lest we lose our favorite Artisan again." She stuck out her paw, cat claws and all, "We have an accord, Artorias, alpha of the Hallows."

Artorias gave a short bark of amused laughter. "Going through all that trouble to taste my blood? Hmm, kinky. And touché, you've got me there." Sparrow balked at his request and whined that the sneaky-beaky night visits were half the fun, then renegotiated the terms, batting big blue eyes at him in a dramatic fashion. He snorted to keep from snickering, but knew he was already going to concede to the pirate king's request. All he'd really wanted from this conversation was to get a feel for who Sparrow was. The only times he'd seen her was when she was skulking around his border, and then again when she was metaphorically kicking down his door. In their banter, he could see just who Sparrow was. She wasn't a violent bloodthirsty menace. She was wild, yes, but she was just having fun, getting her kicks where she could. Like Artisan had told him, the pirates were just looking for a good time, and he had taken it too personally, been too uptight about it. In many ways, he needed the interaction with the pirates to smooth out those edges.

"I can work with a vague season. Wouldn't want to steal all the fun out from under you," he agreed with a playful grin. Sparrow seemed almost a bit dumbstruck when he offered her the wine, and when she confirmed that they couldn't be allies, Artorias simply nodded. "I know. I'd still like to share a drink with you one day." He never would have expected any different, nor would he make ludicrous or outlandish demands. He knew what she was and that was fine. The Hallows had always had a longstanding idea of neutrality at the least, and he didn't want to shut them out because of that—especially not after what he'd learned about Artisan's brother. What if another pirate desperately needed medical aid? Would he turn them away to their deaths? No, Artorias didn't want that. He wanted to be on negotiable terms with the pirate crew, to engage in banter and battle, host parties and have fun. Fun. Something Artorias was still learning how to have as an adult. Perhaps the pirates and their wily king were the road to that much needed outlet in his life.

After some thought, Sparrow agreed and offered her paw. Without hesitation, Artorias took it with his own, never minding the way the woman's claws bit into his skin. It almost felt like a test of sorts, and he wasn't going to be one to back down when she was meeting him on common ground. "Bit of a shame, really. I've had a hell of a time with Artisan. He's grown on me, helped me learn I need to loosen up more. I'm kinda sad to see him go, but I know he'll be happier with you. Hell, the stubborn jackass wouldn't eat anything for the first week we had him. Just kept pissing on my wolves when we tried to bring him anything!" he said with a chuckle, motioning for Sparrow and her companions to follow him. Artorias led the way down to the castle and through the gates and courtyard. "My mother said she remembered you from a while back. Said you wanted to see the inside of the castle. Well, today's your lucky day!" If Sparrow decided to follow him, he'd lead her into the castle's foyer and to the guest room they'd put Artisan up in since the drinking party the two men had shared.

Artorias dismissed the guard from in front of Artisan's "prison cell" and pushed open the door to the comfortable guest room. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. Mom's here to pick you up from daycare," he called in to Artisan, waiting for the inevitable ridicule he was sure Sparrow would send Artisan's way when she saw the sort of vacation he'd been put up in.

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

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
____________________

The man agreed and said he'd still like to share a drink with her one day, "Oh, when I said we don't have allies- we still have all-exclusive party guests." She flashed him a smile. He then went on to talk about how much he was going to miss Artisan, and all. Sparrow gave him a very dramatic eyeroll, "Damn, I guess y'all can keep him if you're that infatuated. And here I thought my lust for your blood was a strong bond." She snorted at the idea of him pissing on the other wolves here, "That's my boy," she said more to herself than to Artorias.

The man motioned for Sparrow to follow and said his mother remembered Sparrow and that she'd had wanted to see the castle. Sparrow nodded vaguely, her brain trying to connect the dots, "And here I thought they were completely different packs. Weird how much an alpha changes the vibe, huh?" She didn't have much against either of them- or anything really- but she sure as hell didn't get mother son feelings from them. Ah well, she was down to follow anyway. "Honestly, if this is a trap, you put too much effort in the foreplay apology. I'd have followed either way." She shot Artorias a look- she was joking, but left Pongolo outside. It was a good precaution, but really it was more that the feathered friend disliked anything but the sky above her. Friar, on the other hand, bounded ahead by a few paces, turning back to Artorias to see where they were heading before dashing a few more steps. Sparrow shot him a warning look. He ignored it.

Artorias opened a door and called to Artisan, saying mom was picking him up. Sparrow rolled her eyes, "Your boyfriend told me you pouted for like a week and honestly- not even a full two weeks before you go an make yourself comfy." She pretended to be disappointed but her sharp-toothed smile betrayed her. "Still planning on coming back, or should Friar reload the cart with the goods I'm trading for you?"