Strel had been talked to in advance so that he had a chance to practice with his seemingly forgotten lute. The poor thing needed a good dusting when he checked on it for the party, having wondered what needed to be done. He replaced a string with one he found in Halifax, having attempted to put in a guitar string at first. At least the packaging had images so he knew it was for a lute. Well, it matched so he was not complaining. And the sound matched well, too. At last, the lute was receiving the attention it had once experienced when music was a much bigger part of the redhead's life. Sewing had taken up that portion of his time quite a bit, and the music part of his life was waning away.
Everything was always at the hotel. It made it so easy to get ready and to leave since it took only a minute of easy walking to get to his room. But tonight, since people would surely be in their best, Strel made sure to lock up properly and make sure his studio went undisturbed. Of course, if people had a fashion emergency, he was ready for it if they would need it. He tied the doors of the studio shut with sturdy rope so no one would mistake it. That being done, he donned the clothes he had found in Halfix - with his own personal customizations of course - and got his lute from his room. Erika was polished up so high he could see his own reflection in the lute's wooden body. The reflection let him see the hairstyle he had chosen for the evening, pulling back all of his roguish red hair back into a tail with a black ribbon. He actually looked respectable.
The ballroom was the scene of the crime and Strel walked in early, as usual. He called a greeting to the King before taking his place on the stage, making sure his lute was alright in his seat on the platform. He would meet and greet the folk before anything else. Besides, he could not very well play all alone. He was all dressed up in a black jacket and black pants. Beneath that was a white button down shirt. There would have been a tie, but he already felt stuffy as it was. How did those humans deal with those clothes?
The Lord saw Ruri, unmistakable next to her mate, and made a beeline toward her. "Ruri, you look very lovely. Making me all jealous," he greeted her, as though they knew each other well. And why not? They would be playing together on the stage, albeit with different instruments. Him with his lute, her with her voice. "You will sing tonight? I'd imagine you would considering the occasion." He would have taken her hand and patted it, but he let her enjoy Heath's company. Who could blame her for that? And the occasion was certainly grand. Strel had a very strong connection with his pack, even if he did not know all the members. He loved the pack, and the intensity of that affection was almost alarming to him. This was the least he could do. Really.
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