Sorry, it's been...emotional.
The war had been taking a toll on the Duc. He had been careful to stay in the borders because of the possible threat that came from existing near the two belligerent groups. Chances were the fighting would never come terribly close to the Kingdom's borders, but the redhead had no desire to tempt chance and risk losing his head over being caught unawares. It was not that Strel was terrified or afraid of fighting. No, he just could not be bothered to participate. Ever. Fighters were there to do the noble hero act and the Duc was left to make sure they dressed prettily. But it was high time for Strel to venture out of Cours again since it seemed like the war was dimming down a little bit; no action had actually reached the packlands. It felt safe enough to not worry about the neutral area of Halifax being attacked en mass anytime soon. Surely there was no harm and it would be safe to visit for those ever so essential essentials.
Halifax - city once the capitol of Nova Scotia, but now lay abandoned for the Luperci to ravage it and pull the treasures from its hidden depths. Strelein was getting used to the layout of the place, knowing well where he needed to go for the things he desired. It was more of a lazy trip, truthfully. The Kingdom got boring for the Duc after a little while and a change of scenery was always called for. At least the place would offer some kind of anonymity from immediate identification, though he was sure that he smelled of Miracles by now. They would know him by his scent, but hopefully they would see the lanky, thin young male as nothing more than a nonthreatening scrap of life.
Strelein had been wandering through town, simply enjoying the freedom of the wide open streets before he went to fill his arm and the bag over his shoulder with goodies and materials. Maybe he would finally get something for Mati, and maybe Mati's lovely girl (whatever that lovely girl happened to look like). Some metal coins jingled in the redhead's jacket pocket. The jacket itself was a dark colored thing, tight over his shoulders and with narrower sleeves than most males would be expected to don. It was open to his bare chest, but that was not exactly something shocking.
That, of course, was when the Duc realized that he was not alone and that the scent on the air was one he had vaguely sampled weeks ago at the borders of Inferni. Strel instinctively recoiled, forcing himself against a building so something sturdy was against his back as he peered for the source of the scent. There was an Inferni here and he had fought, or almost fought, with an Inferni. Surely that guy had mentioned him? Maybe in passing? But he was sure that he had to be wary now, though it might have been far too cautious. He did look around the corner, trying to be sneaky, hoping he could catch a glimpse of whoever it was, so he could chose whether or not to backtrack and go around. What a pussy.
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