It was warm now and it was just the way the redhead liked it. He took off from the hotel, eager to just bask in the sunlight, perhaps by the beach even though he was not fond of swimming or the water really. He carried with him a light blanket that he had made quickly the day before with a light dark russet color material. All he had to do was to sew the sides down to even out the cloth and make it a square. It had been a quick one, and it proved a nice break from the tuxedo he had stopped working on; Shawchert was gone. There would be no marriage for him and there would be no more tuxedo to finish. He left it folded in his closet, though he first tossed out the paints as they were not fit for much anymore, old as they were.

He strolled along, the blanket draped over his arm as he heard a woman singing. Curious, the tailor followed the sound toward the source, seeing a familiar female and her child. Amaranth. Ah, that was right, she had delivered her first offspring not too long ago. Though it seemed she had only one living to show her effort. God, children, what a disgusting thought. Who would want to get all in there just to make one? Gross. Strel ignored his displeasure at the female sexual parts, and approached the woman with her child. "Ah Amaranth, out to enjoy the day with the kidling?" he asked gently, smoothing out a wrinkle in his blanket and tossing away a rogue leaf.

Strel was indeed like a kind of uncle to Amaranth, having had a thing with her father and her true blood uncle; he was embarrassed to admit those two facts. Especially now that he had someone else in his life. It was kind of sad really, but he had been here in the pack since the pups had been born and they had grown. It was awkward, but less so considering the redheaded man did not tell the young woman what had happened during her childhood. The less she knew about that, the better things would be. So now he smiled as she greeted him with baby in arms.

"Aah, congratulations, a many more children to you," he said pleasantly, not feeling remotely the same for his own self. Children, what a mess. He would be surprised if he ever wanted children. "Any child is a gift," he added, nodding as though he had said something wise to the woman. "How is his father? Elated, I bet." Strel was aware of the other children Niro had sired, but he did not want to make a mention of them to the man's mate. It was always hard for those with a love to think on those that loved him past. "Well here, let me just toss down this blanket and you can sit on it." Strel flapped out the blanket, letting the wind smooth it forward as he dropped it on the ground for the new mother.

The redheaded man laughed at that thought. He had done very little for Niro, but had found lots of business with his mate and her mother. So naturally he knew of all of them well enough, especially since Niro had helped him a tad with some leather work; though he still stank something awful at it. ."What, is he going to have the boy racing on horses with the wind in his hair and a sword in his hands?" he joked lightly, imagining a fire headed male racing on a black stallion into some fictional battle. Such delusions of grandeur. "Or is he going to take the boy as his apprentice with the birds?" It was all in light fun, since it was still so soon; too early to really know who the little boy in her arms was going to turn out to be.

Strel nodded as he smoothed out the edges. "Of course I did. It was simply faster than finding myself one, patching it up, washing it out, blah blah blah," he said as he shook his head, sitting himself down flat on the blanket. He smiled at the woman, happy at his own luck in life. "Couldn't be better, to be honest," the redhead admitted, shrugging. "It could be the time when plenty of Courtiers are happy." He gave a crooked smile, remember when Amaranth was just a teeny feisty thing. "Your boy is a gift, but my man is just as much a miracle." Strel rolled his eyes. And it was his own fault it was a miracle that Noss had not left.

Strelein nodded at the woman, not really know what it was like to have a child to raise. He did not really seem himself with one either. But maybe that was just his logical mind telling him two men a baby did not make. ”I’m sure that he could, but I remember when I was a kid, I thought that I could fly. Now, I know that’s not at all true. Make sure you tell the boy, when he’s older, he needs wings in his back to fly.” He reclined onto his arms, stretching out his legs before him. Was he always so long or was he just less aware of himself than he thought he was?

”Of course I’m still making things,” he said surprised, wondering why on earth he would ever stop doing something he liked so much. Honestly, Amaranth should have known he was going to keep on sewing; it was his job, after all. ”Sure, please do. I recently managed to find a mannequin and it’s kind of made things easier. Though pants are still the hardest thing to do,” admitted the redheaded man, shrugging. Few pairs were made purely originally; most were just customizations. ”But please do. I haven’t made a good full outfit in a while. Heck, I had to stop one because the groom bailed before I could finish his suit.” Strel shrugged, wishing he could finish that piece but it wasn’t going to happen.

The redhead nodded, and shrugged, not really sure what to classify it. ”Well... Maybe, I don’t know. I guess? But I really wouldn’t call it that. Maybe. I don’t know,” he finished his fumbling with a chortle, eyeing the little boy. ”So, you’re going to need something for him soon, aren’t you?”

Strel snorted. See what he could do? It was more of a "what would he do next" at this point. His skills had gotten to that point where it was just a matter of trying the random and the bizarre, though rarely did he get a chance. But it seemed like he never would, since few people wanted him to test his skills, put them to the max if you will. The man only shrugged, neatly rolling his shoulders in the gesture. "Of course, I'll do my best. I think I've made more things for your family than anyone else. Well. Except myself now." Strel's closet was getting full, and the dresser had been full already. He was so close to converting the useless bathroom into a storage facility for his clothes. But first he'd have to knock in some windows into the walls, but he was no good at carpentry.

The redhead laughed kindly at the woman eying her child. He knew the humans grew slower than them, much slower, but he supposed every mother felt the same way, even the humans with their long lifespans. "I'm sure one day he'll wish he was still here, on a blanket in the sun with his mother smiling at him. Before things get complicated, and difficult, and just not fun. Watch, he'll come crawling home to you and nagging you for food like old times." He wondered if Amaranth would ever accept a woman Jiva brought home. Would she be that kind of mother?