Lia made the stew especially for the occasion. Artorias having told her about the pirate set on starving himself in the castle dungeons. She was nervous heading down there, especially by herself. The man was behind bars, but she had heard about the raid on the pack. The ambush at night time, and tended to the stitches Artorias had ripped in his side, earned during the fighting.

But he was under the Hallows' care for now, and she had heard how it worried her Aegis that he starved himself. The stew was deliciously atomic, having been working on it for hours. Would it be enough to tease the Pirate into taking a bite? There was only one way to find out.

The small healer made her way down into the penitentiary, and found the man lying in the corner, a sullen expression on his maw. She took a breath and made her way forward, smiling at the stranger. “Good morning, Sir. I prepared something special for breakfast, if you're interested?”

"Speech"

Artisan was becoming tired of his cell, of peeing on delivery-wolves, of drinking barely enough to feel a buzz each day. His hunger strike had started out spiteful, but somehow had devolved into a strategy to get the most of his offerings of liquor. Pawsteps from outside his cell sounded again and Artisan glanced out the bars, waiting to see another stranger slip a tray beneath and to him so he might have his daily lot of booze.

This stranger was prettier then the others and younger too, but Artisan was distracted by the expectation of getting drunk sometime soon. "Breakfast? Did you forget the beer?" The wolf had a bowl of... something, but scenting the air he noticed no strong smell of alcohol. Had Artorias stopped sending them down with booze, to entice him to eat? His muzzle wrinkled in annoyance.

"Speech"

Lia blinked in surprise at the demanding captive. His accusation fell on her velvet ears as she paused just outside his cell. Her first instinct was to bow and back away and grab exactly what he asked for… but he was a captive, a man behind bars. A man that her Aegis worried was starving himself. She curbed the impulse and gently placed the first on the ground where she could slide the stew under the bars.

She gave a shy smile to the taller wolf as she did so. “I didn’t know about any beer, Sir, but I did make this stew especially for you” she explained as she settled herself on the other side of the bars. “Perhaps if you take a bite and tell me what you think of it? And then I’ll go find where they keep the beer” she suggested, wondering if she had already stuffed up the breakfast order by forgetting to bring any alcoholic beverages.

"Speech"

The wolf called him 'Sir' again, thoroughly rustling Artisan's feathers at the implication. "My name is Artisan, you don't have to get fancy around me." He insisted, getting to his feet and stretching out his limbs as much as he could within the cell. It was odd that a wolf belonging to the pack would get so formal before an incarcerated wolf and it drew Artisan's curiosity. "Are you a slave here? What's the trick to getting out of the cell?" Hell, even if Artisan had to wander the hallowed halls calling people 'sir' and 'ma'am' and delivering breakfasts, he might consider doing it if it got him out of this prison block.

She was polite enough and looked slightly worried, which was enough to have Artisan reach his paw for the bowl and drag it beneath the bars toward him. It wasn't enough to make him actually eat it yet, however. "Or, or..." He emphasized. "You can go get the beer, and I'll try a bite while you're gone."

"Speech"

It was her way that when a wolf asked she leave off the niceties, she politely ignored them. She glanced at the grumpy pirate and considered it for a moment, but… no. This was her little rebellion, and she would keep it. Grumpy pirate or no. “As you wish, Sir” she agreed politely.

She watched as he got to his feet, and yup. He was as towering as every other wolf she had met in this land. “I wouldn’t know, Sir. I’m afraid Artorias never put me behind bars. But, perhaps next time if you don’t stab him, that might help?” she suggested, her voice as gentle and helpful as ever. The snark in the words, but never the tone. It kept them guessing.

She chuckled softly at his alternative suggestion. Finding this pirate less intimidating then she had expected. He was no Sitka, that was for sure. “Then how would I get your first impression just right? Cooking is an art, and I take a lot of pride in it, Sir. I would be much obliged if you took a bite, and then I’ll be quick about grabbing you that beer” she promised him

"Speech"

Artisan's brows furrowed, his ears pulled forward by the tugging of skin. "Artisan. Art-Isss-Annn." He exaggerated each syllable, jabbing his paw into his own chest for emphasis. "Ah, Artorias must be more partial toward women. Do you trade sexual favors for your freedom to roam?" The question was an honest one, with no underlying tone to defame the young slave. As far as he knew by her own helpful tone, they were simply having an open, honest, no-holding-back conversation between captives. Sexual slavery was not a new idea, and it was less appealing then normal slave-work, but still not beyond what Artisan might do to get out of this cell.

She continued to press upon him the meal, and the corner of his lip raised in silent protest as he looked down into the bowl that was definitely not alcoholic based. She did however offer to retrieve for him his beer (for the second time) if he took a bite of her food first. Glowering into the food he considered exactly how much this hunger strike meant to him - could it handle one lapse, if that lapse meant booze? Yes, yes it could.

Artisan pointedly lowered his muzzle toward the bowl and took a small sip of the liquid. The taste was.. unimpressive, but Artisan didn't love food, he loved booze, and even the best cooked food to him was substance, not enjoyment. He didn't let it show on his face and instead murmured some false enjoyment, rubbed his belly, and praised her. "Delicious, thank you..." He paused, awaiting her to fill in her name for him. "OK, now, fetch." Waving his paw and wiggling his toes down the hallway, Artisan encourage her to hurry her way to his beer.

"Speech"

She smirked at his drawn out name. “Nice to meet you, Artisan, i’m Idalia” she said, stepping back and watching to see if he ate. She blinked slowly at his next words, thoughts of her past bubbling to the surface for a moment. “Actually, My Aegis gave me freedom from those that demanded it.” she said shortly, some of her amicable air fading away. Was that what his pirates were like? Wolves that kept slaves and tossed them around for their pleasure? He was no better than those that Artorias had saved her from.

Sher turned stiffly, and went to fetch him his beer. Leaving the penitentiary and making her way back to the main castle. Now… where did the Hallow wolves keep their alcohol? She followed her nose, and grabbed something that smelled like beer, and trotted back down to the cell. She left the beer on the floor right in front of his cell. If he really wanted it, he would have to wiggle around a bit and work for it. She no longer serviced those that would simply use her.

"Speech"

The small servant girl seemed... different, after Artisan's question and his head tilted to the side in confusion as she stomped away. Even on her return she seemed less helpful and much grumpier - not unlike himself - and to his further confusion, placed the drink on the wrong side of the cell. "I'm sorry, have I offended you Idalia?" He asked, never having really understood why bluntness was undesirable.

Crossing the cell he moved up on her, holding her gaze as he threaded a paw through the bars and managed himself his prize. Humiliation didn't mean much to the joyful pirate, who'd happily wiggle and fish around for the alcohol if it somehow made her feel better in the moment.

"Speech"

She felt a little silly as she watched him fish around for his prize. Certainly he didn’t have the aggression of her previous captors. He didn’t know her, didn’t know her past. He hadn’t been making a jab at her. Maybe he had just been genuinely curious, trying to figure out her role here.

She offered a rueful smile and stepped forward to help him get the beer, when he managed to get it around the bars himself. She dipped her head lightly at the tall, golden wolf. “I apologise, Artisan. I didn’t even realise I would be prickly about it. I was…. Sold to sex slavers as a pup, but thats all behind me now. Artorias and Briar saved me from all that.” she explained, open about her past, the shock of feeling that had come with his first words already fading. She seated herself in front of the bars, not wanting to leave him in this lonely cell so quickly. She couldn’t imagine he got much conversation since he had raided the Hallows. She wasn’t sure if she should feel sorry for him or not. After all, he had taken part in that raid and hurt Artorias.

"Speech"