Strel stood to the left and behind, letting his King take the center stage here. His arms were crossed over his chest and he held onto his elbows tightly. His nails were digging into the flesh; war was not something he had been hoping for. He remembered the Dahlian war, and he remembered death that came with it. And he remembered the death that came from others. He was there when Svara killed herself, and when the war came to their front with Jacquez's own speech. It felt like he had been present for every declaration of war that had been made in the kingdom. And he realized he had been. It was a nasty thing that left things ravaged, like the blizzard that tore half the packs away.
He looked blankly at the kingdom come before him, and he had nothing to say on the matter at all. Not one for warriors and their ways, the Dauphin found he was useful only on the home front. "I'll help provide supplies. If you need something for the fighting, cloth, the like, come to me. If I don't have it, I'll make sure to get it within a couple of days." Strel's look was serious as he spoke, little of his happy-go-lucky carefree look on his cream colored face. Lavender eyes were firm.
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