What had he done to warrant a friend leaving on him? And it was a new friend to boot. What could he have done to force the woman to leave on him? They had fun together, didn't they? So why, why would she just, leave? At least she left him a note. But that was just silly; he could not read nor had he ever bothered to learn. Nor would he. Nothing could motivate him now to learn something so archaic and dead. He did not need to write to draw. He did not need to read to sew. What was the point? All he had was this note to be read. It was not enough motivation. And surely someone in the kingdom could read. Surely!

Strelein was both frantic and mopey at the same time. He wanted the letter read, but he was too sullen to do serious searching for a literate luperci. He sat, dejected, by a small gurgling stream, legs resting on the opposite bank as a testament to the small size of the brook. The water bubbled beneath him and he just stared at the indiscernible scratches on the paper, wondering what the shapes meant and what kinds of words were on this page. There was a word or two he thought he recognized, like his name and maybe something else but otherwise it was nothing but Greek to him.

The leaves rustled and the redhead looked up, hand grasping the paper in his hand tight as the wind tried to pull it out of his hold. Lavender eyes looked blankly at the trees before him as he tried to figure out, try to remember, who could help him. He stared back down at the letters, furrowing his brows in another effort to try to understand.

The voice called him from his reverie and the redhead turned his head to gaze blankly at the newcomer. He recognized him, but not by name. He had certainly seem him around. Was it at the ball? Or somewhere else? Well, regardless, he had seen him around but had nothing to call him. Lavender hued eyes stared at him for a moment, as though he were not really there and a figment of Strel's overactive imagination. When the figure did not fade, he knew the man was real and before him. "Oh. Hello."

He turned back to stare at the rumpled paper in his hands, the black letters still holding no meaning to him. God, he wished he knew what Rikka had left for him. It was tearing at him inside to not know her last words for him. Hadn't he told her he couldn't read? Maybe she thought he would find someone to read it for him; there really could be nothing else about it. Or maybe she had not been thinking clearly and had just left it for fear of seeing him face to face to say this. What happened? What on earth happened? Rikka had been so mellow, so easygoing that he found it hard to believe that something bad happened to drive her away.

There was a stranger near him and he had still really not addressed him. Strel glanced over his shoulder at him. The man was injured it seemed. Now what had happened to him? "What the hell happened to you?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing. "Did you run into an angry bear or something like that?" Strel was unnecessarily forceful in his words, his emotional strain filtering into his tone. And who was this guy, again? He should have known who he was, but it seemed he had slacked lately in getting to know people.

Oh this guy was one of the more active hunters. Where Strel would stay around for small, easy game, this guy would start hunts for the big stuff that would feed much more than a wolf or two. The redhead did not need that kind of game. It was fun, maybe for a minute, but after so much running and so much struggle to bring down a single creature, the quick meal of a few rabbits seemed better in comparison. With small meals, there was no question as to who got what part of the animal. And it was easier to preserve and store. And the prey would not leave behind very painful marks. Come now, was he the only truly logical one here?

Raising an eyebrow, Strelein eyed the familiar, yet unfamiliar persona. "No, we haven't. I would have remembered you." Small details stood out in his mind about individual people. It was his attention to them that helped him sometimes. "I'm Strelein." Introductions through, the redhead returned his purple gaze to the water. It gurgled a bit and the redhead could have sworn he saw tiny, silver fish dart around beneath the surface. Ah, little fish, little fish, they had no real idea what the world was like for those like the mammals that may eat them one day. Why was life so complex?

"I don't know. At this point, I just don't know," he sighed, dejected. "If you can somehow fly and track at the same time, I'd appreciate you letting me use your skills. If not, than do you know someone who can read?" Strel figured it was a long shot that the guy himself read, but chances were he knew someone who could. At least he had not yet revealed the source of his distress.

Strel gave a sigh, wondering if there was anyone at all who could help. Oh, he was being quite the drama king but that was definitely not the point here. The point here was that the lack of assistance was only making him pout more and more, and quite frankly, that just sucked so hard. It made him despondent and this was not the kind of face he wanted to present to the public, friends and strangers alike. Strel was not a depressive person, whose very presence sucked the joy from the room. Well, at least he hoped he was not. But this, this was just ridiculous and had to stop. Or else.

He scantly heard what the man said, so lost in thought was he. After a moment, though, all of it registered in his mind and the redhead straightened up instantly and turned at the waist to peer at Niro. "Really? You can?" Strel was feeling the pressure at his waist. Getting out of the slight ditch of the stream, the redhead crouched in front of Niro, fumbling with the paper in his hands. Rushing, he flattened it out, trying to rub the wrinkles out of the piece of paper. It was almost futile, but it seemed as though the scribbles were still decipherable. "What does it say? What did Rikka tell me?" he asked, voice almost impatient.

Strel sat quietly as he watched Niro's eyes dart sideways along the paper, reading off the words. Suddenly the gibberish made sense and the redhead could only sit in silence as he wondered what every little bit of wording could have really meant. His fists clenched tightly, slowly as the message read out. It still seemed so much like he had done something absolutely horrible to Rikka that she did not want to mention or that she did not think was important. But why would she need to leave to heal? Heal from what? What could have happened that he had not been aware of? He was getting close to Rikka and now he felt as though he had not learned remotely enough about her in the time she was here and a friend.

"Why..? What could she need to heal? Was it her family? I know she's a Lykoi child but they seemed to be fine with her being here and being who she is..," he thought out loud, staring blankly at the note as he stared at it. "But that seems silly. Maybe she got in a tussle? Or an old wound?" Strel bit his lip, still wondering why. Why was it always why? Why? Why? Why? "But maybe I did something, but I'm sure I never did anything." A horrible thought dawned on him, and he blanched. "Not... while sober I didn't... maybe.. maybe when we drank? Maybe I did something?"

That was when the redhead realized he had been talking for a while to himself, making Niro privy to some slightly private, not so horrible facts. "Oh I'm sorry. That.. Thank you," he said simply, looking rather flustered at the scene he had displayed before the other man. "Did you know Rikka?" Everyone should have known her. She was certainly a fun hippie, even for a Lykoi.

Strel flattened his ears and tucked the note away in the pocket of his pants. "I wish I could talk to her about it... I don't like this running away business.. It leaves us feeling so unfulfilled and so out of the loop. I hate it." He looked down, feeling guilty because he was oh so guilty of this very same crime. "I hate it.." Strelein had run from his family without many words or really any explanation. How had his family left after he fled from Michigan and the coast of Lake Huron to the edge of the continent? Oh how hurt they must have been if this man was so bent out of shape over a woman, a esteemed colleague. How did family feel?

"How did you know Rikka?" he asked suddenly, blatantly. He did not care what Niro's relationship was to Rikka, but he wanted to know more about her, especially now that he did not have her to ask himself. This was the best he could do with what he had. It sucked but it would have to do for now.

Nodding, the redhead knew what this guy was talking about. But what could he do? What could either of them do? Chasing others was as unwise as could be. Besides, Strel had his duties here, and he wanted to remain here. This was the home he had never had and he wanted to keep it. Leaving was just too much of a maverick move that the redhead could only throw it out of his head like a cheating lover's bags.

Rikka, indeed, had a way of cheering people up. Maybe it was that her presence alone was cheerful, golden colored as she was and in her colorful clothes. Strel certainly liked being around her; she had a fun attitude and personality and he loved it. It was nice having something just as flirtatious to be around who would hit on back at him after he had flirted at her. Like having a female version of himself. Plus having drinking buddies was always delightful. They could have fun until they lost their minds. Then lord knew what shenanigans they got up to. It was fun! And now she was gone.

"Randomly. I saw her chilling by a house or something, I think. She had booze and she shared it. We got trashed," he confessed, laughing at it. "I don't remember that night but it must have been fun since we had massive headaches and hangovers in the morning. It was great." It seemed kind of like the thing to not enjoy, but Strel thought it was a funny way to meet someone. "But I guess I can't have any more of those kinds of days with her." Strel rose, stretching his tired, sore limbs and joints. Brushing off debris off his ass, the redhead looked down at Niro. "Thanks for reading the note. I think I may need to go do something to cheer myself out of this disgusting funk I'm in. Nice meeting you, by the way." With that, he smiled at Niro.