It had been over a month, now, since the coywolf discovered that his Skye was pregnant. The news, when it hit his large ears, nearly knocked him off of his own two feet. Since the news, the former gypsy couldn't help but take a journey, metaphorically speaking, through his past, and all the events that led up to now. It made the coywolf nervous, especially after the cougar incident, to be around pups. He hadn't much experience with them, and he wasn't befitting for a pupsitter, but Bangle had heard somewhere that any inexperienced father, the moment he sees his pups, instantly knows how to be fatherly.

Had someone asked the traveling coywolf a year or so ago if he would settle down and have little runts of his own, Bangle would have laughed his trademark guffaw and waved the question off as a ridiculous one. Now - now he was going to become a father. Which meant even more mouths to feed. Trading goods became rather hard for the merchant as of recently. The past moon felt like a whirlwind, not only with his life and his soon-to-be family, but of the entire pack. When he was needed the most, here in the lands, Bangle felt the need to travel farther out to gather stock and help Skye and the future pups out anyway he could. It was another one of those days, where the coywolf found himself ambling the borders of Cercatori for things to craft and put together; not for potential customers, but for his growing numbers.

Brushing past foliage, bat-like ears twitched at the sounds of a greeting call nearby, and the male's natural curiosity made him forget about his current duties, and walked instead towards the call. The craftsman emerged with objects jingling and clinking from his tool belt, a wide grin spread upon his face as bright orange eyes settled on the strangers.
"'Elo there, friends!" Bangle barked in a friendly manner, as his inquisitive self walked up to the pair, standing but feet away from them. Years of walking up to random strangers made him used to this kind of thing, only this type of sale was towards an entire pack instead of an object. Bangle stuck his hand out in greeting the adult wolf. "Name's Bangle. Are ya lookin' for someone? Or perhaps.. somethin'?" Eyes traveled from the man down to the pup, leaning forward with curiosity. The coywolf's eyes softened, then, in remembering his own pregnant mate.

"What's the lil' feller's name?" He implied towards the larger male, spitting out a multitude of questions and jumping from one subject to another. The craftsman crouched down to the pup's level, unlatching a hand-made object from his belt and holding it out for the four-legged pup to see. It was a small wooden gourd, laced with strings of small beads around the shapely middle. As the coywolf gave it a shake, it rattled, something of a small instrument. "You liiiike?" He asked the young pup, eyebrows wiggling. Standing, Bangle thrust the object forward towards the white wolf's hands. "'Ere, for th' lil' feller t'have."

As the coywolf stood back up, staring at the nervous male, he offered another wide, friendly grin. Had the man come without a pup, chances were that Bangle would have taken the time to sell the stranger some things while they waited for one of the leaders to come by. As that wasn't the case, the least the craftsman could do was be welcoming, which wasn't at all difficult for the former gypsy.

His head tilted sideways, somewhat awkwardly, as the multicolored merchant heard the man speak. Bright eyes appeared brighter when the man mentioned Shawchert, the first male Bangle also had the pleasure of meeting around the same area not a few moons ago. Tilting his head upright again, never losing his chesire smile, the coywolf nodded vigorously. "S'far as I know, our door's always open.." And then, the male turned behind him to see nothing but trees, and within it the pack's lands. "'Course, there's no doors 'ere but.. trees are always open, too!" Turning his head back towards the pair, the craftsman's muzzle split wide and let loose his trademark cackling, one hand reaching out to playfully slap the stranger's back as his sides heaved.

After a moment, Bangle's laughter subsided, just in time to hear the stranger's young pup speak. Its voice came out in series of squeaks, but no less understandable than his father. It seemed that the young fuzzball had answered the coywolf's next question - as to what it is the man could bring to the pack of diverse artists. Again, the traveling merchant offered a smile down at the young boy. "Welllllll," he began, dragging out the word for no apparent reason. "One day ya migh', lil' feller," he said, offering a wink. "A writer, eh?" He questioned, bright eyes staring inquisitively at the adult, now. "Those skills are useful fer us, it is," the bat-eared male said, reaching behind him for the lute that was strapped to him.

"Migh' be a bit fer Shawchert t'show.. 'asn't been 'imself, lately.." his voice trailed off, placing the lute before him and stringing it once, lightly. It was true, Shawchert had been a bit distant since the murder of his son, and the disappearance of Orin. Bangle couldn't blame his friend, either, for being a bit scarce. "Or Skye may be 'round, th' other leader'a Cercatori." As he mentioned his mate's name, his already-bright orange eyes lit up, and the coywolf moved towards a large boulder that was closer to trees which outlined the borders. "D'ya like music?" The coywolf asked, stringing his lute a bit louder then. The question was only slightly rhetorical, seeing as anyone with an interest in Cercatori enjoyed music in some fashion. Sitting down, one leg drawn up, the coywolf casually began to play his painted lute to entertain the pair, in hopes his cackling hadn't scared them off. "Yeh much of a dancer, writer?" The coywolf questioned with one eyebrow raised, attempting to pry out more information. His grin returned as Bangle's fingers began to strum against the strings of his first, and most cherished, crafted instrument.

Continuing to lose his own body in the music, the craftsman began to sway lightly, large ears flicking towards the stranger as he spoke. "A writer 'n a singer, are yeh? Yeh don' see tha' everyday.." He nodded reassuringly, muttering the last few words under his breath is a playful, sarcastic tone. There were a handful of singers and writers in Cercatori as it were, but it never hurt to add another - especially when this male had knowledge of herbs, possibly for medicinal use, and such information was useful for the pack (especially lately), as well as getting along with the pack's healer, Sky.

The final thought led to Shawchert appearing on the scene, and Bangle offered a friendly grin towards the tall captain. "'Elo, friend!" The coywolf piped up, a cheery disposition in contrast to the beaten up leader that now moved to stand next to the lute player. With the coyote mix sitting down, Shaw towered over Bangle, but it didn't bother the craftsman much. It was surprising enough to see him walking about, still greeting newcomers despite his bruised heart and his beaten countenance. Eyes moved from the giant male back to the stranger and his son, the loud tune from his instrument now nothing but soft background music to the idle chatter of the four figures.