Strel can help him out :O or get him more lost. Whichever
Call it a good day, call it a bad day, Strel called it a day in the middle. It had started out rough; he had rammed his knee into the wall beneath his bedroom window after getting up to look out. Then he had, somehow, poked a needle a couple of centimeters into his arm, causing him to scream and then promptly rip it out of his arm and launch it at the wall - it was currently lodged in the wall. The redhead had contemplated getting gauze for it, but it did not bleed and only hurt him a bit. He was no pansy. Okay that was a lie, he was kind of a pansy, but that was just too pansy for him. To make the day worse, he had realized he was out of a certain color of thread that he liked. AND he was low on black lace. How could he make dresses for the females without that?!
How gay did he sound? Very.
So, taking his bad day in stride, Strelein headed out to Halifax, hoping to find some remnants of silky lace and plenty of bobbins. He took his backback. After a quick stop at his usual fabric store, or what used to be a functional fabric store, the redhead walked away from plenty of thread, and some black and white lace folded up and stuffed into his leather bag. It was a good haul; there was enough to last through several, several outfits that were requested of him and those he was doing as a surprise.
Of course, his lavender eyes suddenly ran upon a figure shifting his form in the distance. It could only be a he for the size. Maybe his height? Probably taller, but Strel was lean than bulky so he could never tell in comparison. Raising an eyebrow, the redhead adjusted the back on his shoulder and followed his instinct to the figure. Whoever he was, for Strelein could see him better now, he was not someone he knew. Nor did he smell distinctly of anywhere. Dahlia de Mai was faint on him, but he could have just encountered a wolf from there. He thought nothing of it; Cour des Miracles was not allied nor against any packs or clans. Maybe on tender hooks with Inferni, but who wasn't?
"Lost, buddy?" he asked, tenor voice ringing out as he questioned the stranger. It was honestly just a guess. But it was not a native of the place, so who knew? "Need help, or somethin?"
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