[div style="width: 48%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]Art? What the fuck was he, da Vinci? Sure, he had his profound (and perhaps surprising to others) appreciation for the arts, but he could not call himself an artist himself. Well, blacksmithing was an art form in and of itself, wasn't it? Maybe that was a stretch, but shit, if he was getting paid, he could do just about anything a customer demanded of him. Regardless, the harsh caws of an unfamiliar beast requesting his presence summoned the demon over to the source, glancing at the three-eyed crow curiously.

"That'll be me, birdbrain," Zjarr mused to the avian entity, his nose crinkling slightly at the sudden reek of rot that permeated from the other. Not all Pittians smelled as foul as this, though — that bounty hunter fellow he met had no particular smell apart from a very faint scent that he assumed belonged to The Pitt. Maybe this particular one just needed a nice, long bath. Whatever the case may be, he was not in the place to judge a potential customer, lest he lose vis business. "A'ight, I'll say this now: I ain't no Michelangelo, so I can't offer anythin' crazy huge. Now, smaller pieces, I'll work around 'em, they'll be more manageable. What're you thinkin' 'bout, exactly? Oh, I'll need a name for this, too, if you'd like to indulge me."

The husky now rested upon his haunches, patiently awaiting the crow's response. He had never been commissioned for an art piece before, but there was always a first time for everything, wasn't there? It wasn't as though he couldn't draw a stick figure to save his life — with Flamey in his head, he managed to pick up an affinity for sketching and some miniature sculpting, usually made with clay and other soft materials. Metal sculpting would be a whole other realm of experimentation, so he would use this order as an opportunity to dive into such a field. Practice made perfect.

[div style="width: 48%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]It was true that Zjarr hadn't quite understood the position that Vale held until ve up and told him. Ardent of the Pitt. Hmm. Well, that explained why ve was hollering and shrieking out demands like ve was ruler of the whole damn world. In any case, it was always good to identify the leaders of the groups, especially if he had the intention of doing any business with them. And this Vale person didn't seem to be too much of an asshole, just on the louder side. Nothing the demon couldn't tolerate.

The husky snorted at the crow's offer of a feral crow to him. A little corvid muse, huh? It would be...cute, he guessed. Maybe one of the kids could feed it. Teach 'em sum' 'bout responsibility. Hopefully he had enough peanuts to spare for the crow. "Yeah, I'll take one of 'em, if you're offerin'. I'll bring it with me to the Pitt once I'm done," he responded. Vale's request seemed to be fairly simple now that ve fleshed out vis idea, and he felt more confident in his ability to work on the project.

What did he want in return? That was certainly a good question. One of Zjarr's primary reasons for coming to Tanglewood in the first place was the immediate, easy access to scrap materials in their swampy junkyard, so more resources for his blacksmithing ventures would be far from necessary. Was there anything ve could give him? Perhaps an agreement. "Tell ya what. Y'don't gotta give me anythin' now, but I'll make a deal with ya. I'll make your statue, multiple even, dependin' on time 'n' resources. All I'm askin' for in return is some space for a lil' stall right in the Pitt's plaza." Doing business in the heart of the Pitt? Was he a madman? Of course he was, but there was a rhyme and reason behind his request. "Now, I'm a busy bee, I ain't gonna be there all the time. I care 'bout you 'n' your group's gossip 'n' secrets 'bout as much as you care 'bout my own. I'm jus' lookin' for a decent place to sell my wares if I'm in the area, and any other Ignibus as well. Avoids you havin' to trudge back into this swamp again if y'need me for anythin' else. I like my repeat customers," Zjarr added, a warm, wide grin upon his maw. Not only would this be a good opportunity for himself, he could extend it to his children once they were of age to sell and craft their own weapons. Having a secure, trusted location to trade would greatly simplify the process and perhaps put the newfound Tangler's mind at ease once they started getting into the family business. He wanted the best for them, and only the best.

"Whaddaya say, Ardent Vale? Do we have a deal?" he said with his grin unwavering, extending a paw out as though offering it for the other to shake. Could crows shake on it that well? Probably not. He didn't care. As long as he got a positive response, he would be all set.

[div style="width: 48%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]"Y'got my word, Ardent Vale," was all the blacksmith had to say in response to the crow, nodding along to vis words. "My family's, too. We'll keep our distance." Sure, Zjarr said that now, but if a Tangler ever needed something from the Pitt, he certainly wouldn't deny a little bribe slipped to him to encourage his "accidental" wandering into the Plaza. For his own purposes, though? He had nothing intimate to do with the Pitt and wanted to keep it that way. It was all very strictly business, and keeping it as simply business was the key to an easy transaction here.

The husky's ear twitched at a Tangler's voice behind him, and he tossed his head over his shoulder to snort at Corrupttimelines, who seemed understandably confused as to what just occurred. "That? Oh, I was jus' serenadin' the Ardent a lil'. Workin' my classic charm," he mused to the other, a rumbling chuckle erupting from him. "No. That, my friend, was jus'...business." Did he care to go into detail about it now? No, not really. Should'a come sooner!