What was he doing at the stables? He had no idea either. He just stood, leaning against the fence with his tail tucked close, even though he was wearing long jeans, a light jacket, and arm warmers. His hair was starting to get unruly, but he had not yet bothered to trim them himself; the most maintenance he had really done on his mane was to keep dying his roots with his slowly diminishing henna stash. But there was enough to last the man the winter and part of spring, when he could be bothered to either find more powdered henna or search for very, very unlikely survivors of the seed variety to plant in pots in his room. For now, he could deal with it. So why was he not at home, curled up in comfort, but out in the cold near the stables? Again, who knew? Strel sure as hell didn't.

He saw a flicker of movement and he lazily turned his lavender eyes in that direction, wondering who it was. From what he saw, it was a paler wolf, but Strel could not figure out who it was exactly; his memory was kind of fuzzy. Curiosity got the best of him and he walked around the fence, leaving paw prints in the snow behind him. In a couple of days, they would disappear under a layer of snow, most likely.

Inside of the stable, a place he rarely went into, he saw Niro. The two of then had briefly met after Rikka had left and gave Strel a note he couldn't read. At least they knew who the other was and could call them by name. And Niro actually outranked Strel, even though the redhead had been in the pack for longer. But what could he do? He did not deserve it much. Oh well. "What are you doin' at the stables instead of somewhere warm with someone warmer?" he asked, slightly crude in what he was implying. But he cared about as much for that as for a cockroach in an abandoned building.

Strel furrowed his brows. Puh-lease, if his lady wanted to keep him in bed, that would have worked just fine. No doubt they both would have compromised to spend a lovely day tucked in each other's arms. Strel certainly would not have minded having someone to be tucked into, literally. But that train of thought just made his head hurt a little bit as he thought about the person who had been causing him his most recent torment. Maybe it was better that he had no one to cling to in the cold; there was no heartache there. Oh well. Lucky, lucky Niro to even have someone to think about like that. "Shame, I hear they make days go by faster and warmer."

Perking up at the craft talk, the redhead approached the table to look over Niro's shoulder. "Oh?" he asked, peering at the gloves in progress. "Well, that's really cool," he said, impressed. Leather was not the redhead's forte; he was a tailor, for god's sake. Niro showed him the stash of unfinished leather and the redhead shook his head. "I would gladly take some, but I don't really work with leather. I mean, I would if I had more to practice with but I can't tan and cure hide. Plus I don't have the stuff I need for leather working." Again he shook his head, and sighed. "You can read, catch birds, and train them. Who taught you to do this, too?"

Well, the leather was tempting. He could use it to accessorize or decorate his outfits in some new strange eclectic way. That and having a bunch of it to play with was not really something he could look his nose down on. He took a hand and ran it over the top of the pile, feeling the leather beneath his pads. It was good stuff, not that Strel knew any better. It really would be nice to take some to try out. But it was supposed to be useful and used properly, not for his butchering experiments.

So that was the secret behind knowing so much. Books and reading. And that was something Strel could not do to save his life. He knew his name at best and that had always been more than enough for him. Still, reading had been useful so far even if the redhead had no grasp on how to do it himself. Oh, it was far too late for him to learn; he was getting older and every knew, the older you were, the harder things got. Quite frankly, Strel had enough hard things in his life right now; he so did not need more. And what good would reading do for him in his line of work? Just put a name to the stitches, designs, and patterns he already did and had given his own names for them? Pointless. Really, pointless.

"Wow. That is impressive. I wonder, if you would give me some of this leather? I wouldn't say no to try it out on my own terms with my own needles." However, he knew he'd need to either find a way to loosen the leather and make it much softer, or find thicker, harder needles in Halifax to utilize. But that would require a trek to the city. "Speaking of needles, do you need anything in the city? I might go out there later and figure if you need something I could get you it." Killing two birds with one stone; being nice to other courtiers and finding more reason to get out in the cold.

Ah so his sister had taught him. Where had that girl run off to, now that he wondered about it. Where had the women suddenly started to go to? A couple of female presences he had noticed were gone. Liliya had gone, he knew that, but she had come to ask him for clothing now and then, but none of these women had left too big a hole in Strelein's life, aside from Rikka, but it was all okay now. He was fine and he was living on. After all, they all had a limited engagement with the planet, might as well enjoy the brief love affair with life they had, right?

The redhead nodded, pulling out a whole piece of leather. "I think I'll only take a single piece like this, just because you'd probably make more stuff out of it than I right now. Is there anything specific I'd need to work it properly? Knives? Thick needles?" he asked, wondering how he was supposed to tie more than one piece together. Thick cowhide thread? Lots of thin, thin threads? But that would surely break easily.. Gosh, this sounded hard, but a fun prospective experiment. He would have to find one of those places - a hobby shop - and see if they had anything. Maybe.

But he furrowed his brows then the other man almost dismissed the notion. "Huh?" he began, wondering what the hell Niro was talking about. "Why not? I'm not going to pick the wrong kind of knife if you just tell me what to look for," he finished, seriously confused. There was nothing dangerous about Halifax other than the decaying buildings; some were not entirely stable. Well, that and there was glass everywhere underfoot in shops, but that was easy to avoid. "I swear I'll find something you need if you just lemme know what it is."

Strel nodded as he listened to the list that the Majordomo gave him, already forming his own modified version of the list given. He rattled them off after Niro finished tell him all he needed. "Sounds manageable," he said simply, stilling his head. The redhead would go to Halifax and look for those thicker needles, since they would, no doubt, be sharp if they were metal and new. That was a terribly easy thing to find in any of the hobby stores he had seen decaying in the city. But holes already cut into the leather? He would probably need a way to cut into the leather without ripping it, maybe with a sharp ended.. something and a small hammer to push it through. Maybe he could find some kind of tools to do it, perhaps those things humans had used to build things with? he could even use them as patterns or as a way to make holes for the packets of fake gemstones he had found in a bunch of places. Gosh those humans were ingenious. And then there was the issue of the thread. He would need to either find thick, but still soft, twine. Wasting leather to make straps did not really sound appealing to the redhead, but it might make the pieces look more attractive and natural. Ugh, this was a tricky dilemma. Strel would never be a leather worker, but he could sure as hell use it to gussy up his cloth.

Raising an eyebrow, the redhead snickered audibly. "You trespassed on some loner's.. lawn?" he asked, wondering what the deal with that was. "What, did he look at you funny and threaten to throw bricks at you?" he added, joking, knowing fully well that what he was saying could be taken as insulting. Strel was not calling Niro a coward, but he was finding it so amusing that the man did not want him to look for things for him in Halifax just because of that. Please, the best folk Strel had met had been loners. Like the Russo family, or Daisuke. They were nice people and loners, though only the Russo had lived in Halifax (okay, it was only Anatoliy in Cours now, but that was beside the point). "I'll just tread in the streets then and avoid the buildings. Where was this dirty loner?" His entire tone was amused, because to him, it really was.

The knife was handed to him and he took it in his hand, carefully minding the bladed end. It was dull, he could see that. Flicking his thumb against the "sharp" edge, he furrowed his brows at it, feeling it dig into his flesh but not give a true cut, just a scratch. It seemed a waste to just get a whole new knife in a world full of utility. "I'll see what I can do. I'll try to find some books on knives if I can, to help out if I can't fine the knives or sharpening thing."

Just as he was about to offer the knife back Niro, the bird that he had been watching started screeching, demanding attention, and getting it fully from them both. Strel took a step back and put up his arm just in case. That seemed highly uncalled for. He had done nothing. Niro got a leather hood on the bird and it stilled soon after, though it was clearly listening, very well. "Oh god..," he muttered, relaxing and putting the dulled knife on the table before Niro. "Nah, it's alright. I'm very much the same. Though, I am by no means that loud and obnoxious about my attention getting," he said smugly, giving a fake sniff. "But this attention whore aside, have any other birds?"

Strel gave a sudden, unseemly laugh at the end of the Majordomo's words, but he instantly put his hand up to cover his mouth. "Oh I'm sorry. That just kind of seemed silly, at the end," he added apologetically, looking slightly guilty. "But, I mean, you wouldn't really expect someone to want to eat someone else." It was true, cannibalism was a little bit beyond the morals of the sane society. It had not been acceptable in Port Sanilac and it was probably definitely not something that Vigilante would be alright with allowing in his kingdom. Strel himself was not a very big fan of cannibalism. It was just such a strange concept for him that he had no idea why anyone would want to partake. It was laughable. It could not even be taken as gourmet cuisine! "I mean, I don't think any sane wolf would want to eat another. That's disgusting."

Curious, the redhead raised an eyebrow at Niro. "Someone?" he inquired, knowing well enough that Niro was mated to Amaranth, and that was Ayita's baby girl, with Leroy of all people. He hoped that the man was not getting into anymore trouble. "Would Amaranth be worried?" he asked, hinting gently at it, wondering if Niro would catch the hint or if it was lost on him. Strel was not big on cheating, but then again, he never had a relationship as involved as it could have been. There never had been a relationship that could have been marred by such a thing, but regardless. Emotions were something to follow and at some point, faithfulness. Okay, well, Strel was probably the last person to feel this way, considering how many times he had opened his legs in the past. But those were flings, not loving partnerships.

Strel nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. The Majordomo certainly seemed to fill his role, and it was interesting how he could have his own birds when once they would fear for the lives of pups, if what his mother told him was the truth. All pups were threatened by big scary birds picking them up if they did not behave as children. It was a good joke to play on the young ones, but that was a big lie now. They were more concerned for themselves than hunting big luperci pups. That and there was plenty of much, much easier prey. No, the big worry was more other carnivores that were not luperci blessed (or cursed, whichever), like cats and other not canine thing with sharp pointy teeth and a hunger for easy blood.

The bird staring at him only reminded him further of his fears of his childhood. It was such a.. daunting case, as though it were piercing into his soul and wondering if he were worthy. "You, sir, are a very varied person. Ever consider breeding 'em? I hear you can, and from what I see, you probably could," he chuckled lightheartedly, wondering where Niro's talents capped out. Surely not for very long. "I sympathize with him. Attention is nice. I like attention." Hell, Strel thrived on attention. It was what he did. He made clothes and he dyed his own mane. He was an attention whore. It was his lifeblood and it made him shine, because that was what he did. He liked limelight. He was Strel and he was obnoxious and boy did he love it.

The redheaded man rolled his shoulders in a wolf shrug, knowing little about the cannibal lifestyle and eating habits. But he was mostly sure that there had been enough game in Halifax to tide over even a lunatic in the winter. In all likeliness there were rabbits still in the parks and on the outskirts of the city that did not sleep in this time of year. So it was fairly hard to understand a loony that wanted to eat another canine in attempts to quell a hunger. But the redhead figured that it was equally hard to understand because the other guy had been, in fact, a loony. "So long as you got out okay then," he said amicably, still rather cheerful about it all. It really was a comical thing to think about, even if it was traumatizing at the time. Strel knew he would laugh about it later if it had happened to him, among a lot of bitter name calling of the insane loner.

As it was, he had no idea about the other man's intimate moments with other women, just as he would have been sure few knew the full extent of who he had been with and how that had all had gone down. He did not share things like that lightly, but it happened often enough that he no longer cared terribly. Sure, as he ranked up through the past two years, it had been a little more of a concern for him, so he kept his mouth shut more often. Though, enough people knew about him and his liaisons that he just let them think about what was appropriate to share and what they ought to keep to themselves to keep from harming him. He trusted the ones who knew it all, and few others knew, so he breathed easily most of the time. At least in regards to that. As such, the redhead did not judge others on how promiscuous they were, considering his own track record.

Strelein chuckled a bit, thinking of the comparison to wolves and then the birds. "We have it easier, don't we?" he said, unaware of just how easy it really was, considering he was, unknowingly, a father himself. "We seem to be able to pop out kiddlings at a record pace. Maybe we'll become as populous as the humans before us," he joked, thinking it would be a marvel to see the Luperci pick up the pieces of the shattered homo sapian race. They were the minority now, for sure. There was no future for the humans anymore. They killed themselves off into obscurity and the canines were going to shine again with their parting gifts. "I mean, look at how many were born this year alone. It's pretty impressive," he nodded, rubbing his chin a tad.

The bird kept on watching him, and it was still rather unnerving, but it seemed to help Niro actually touch his own bird. "Why? Marahute like attention more than him or does he have a thing about touching?" he inquired, eying the bird with lavender hued eyes. Sure was a pretty bird, but they could do damage, and that seemed to make affectionate actions hard, especially if they didn't like it. "You should get pigeons. I heard they can make good messengers. Or someone told me, I don't remember." It was just something someone in Toronto had said, but the redhead doubted it was possible, considering how stupid a pigeon was. And he had not seen it done. Who knew?