Why was he out? Why on earth was he out of his rooms, out of his studio? Why on earth was the redhead wandering the borders of a kingdom that had been so very quiet lately. News from other packs was not as wonderful as the man had liked. Phoenix Valley and Dahlia merging? That knocked out the threat of another Dahlian and Infernian war, but it left a void of land for others to take. That was the biggest question from that area. But their far south neighbors, AniWaya were facing something stranger still; someone came to dethrone the Chief, Kalona, whatever. Strelein still had a mild interest in the tribe. But a group of violent guardians? That made him nervous.

Strelein walked the borders, too early for him to really be awake. His eyes were opened but his mind was elsewhere. He wished he had not left that morning and had still been draped over Noss's form beside him. Instead, he had risen with the sun and donned a light red shirt and khakis. The bangle on his arm was clinking against the metal studs in his belt but he ignored it. It was sunny and it was not something he wanted to feel; it was hot, even with light clothes. Nude was not an option, so he grinned and bore the heat in cloth.

A scent hit his nares and the man searched about, ears swiveling. But his steps still went forward as he neared the source of the smell. It was not someone from any pack near by, none that he knew. Maybe it was the new mountain pack's? But it would have been similar to the Dahlian or the Valley scent. He approached the cause of the scent, a female he knew, and wondered who they were and what they wanted with the Kingdom. He was more surprised to see someone he did not knew with a scent he did not recognize. "Can I help you?" he asked gently, hand on a tree as he eyed the stranger.

Every time the man came to the borders by chance, he always found someone who needed help. Last time it had been Ever, but she was no pup anymore, not at her age. She was grown and he had missed the chance to raise a child, even though it was still not something he was terribly longing for. It would have to happen eventually, but now, children were but a mystery to him. This one was either tired or hungry. Or both. It was not new. At least they had a good store in the basement of the hotel. Good thing too, or else the redheaded man would have starved. Even with Noss's hunts. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

Strelein raised a brow a tad at the woman, tail slightly moving behind him. The formalities were different in this form, and he was not going to get on all fours while dressed. But he knew he outranked her, but he was not about to demand absolute and tell her to bite her tongue like he knew his old alpha would have. But that alpha would have also flayed him alive for being on two feet as well. "Information served you fine. You know you're on the borders. You're on the borders of Cour des Miracles. The court of miracles. We're, to be honest, a motley crew." He gave a slightly bow, a mocking thing he had always done for Jacquez in good natured fun. He figured it was high time to bring the gesture back. "I'm Strelein von Rosnete. I've been here.. for a very long time. So feel free to ask away."

At times, the redhead felt maybe he had been here too long. But other times, he just felt like he had no where else he would rather spend his days. Noss have felt differently, but the man was strange and he was not exactly a courtly wolf. But Strel, Strel was a courtier through and through. It showed through his smile, sly but broad as it was.

The man gave an easy laugh. "More of a mouthful. My mother had a fascination with European culture, though that was really all she could take from humans without repercussions." His old pack had been traditional and human things were shunned or destroyed if any pack member brought it in. The redhead absentmindedly touched the bangle on his arm, remembering briefly how it came to his possession. "Most people just call me Strel, or just 'hey, you over there'." He shrugged at the woman, dismissing her notion that his name was anything other than a stupid thing his mother thought would be clever. If Vixen thought it anything other than what it was, the man was going to have to disappoint her. "Oddly enough, never met anyone named Vixen. So, I guess it is special, if you want to think of it that way?"

Strel waved off her apologies. She was clearly in no state to be considered an enemy. And he was sure Haven was more than a match for most outsiders meaning ill intent. "We have more than enough capable of handling a single trespasser." But the redheaded man did not let the woman know of the problem his best friend had encountered near Crimson Dreams. Someone had tried to seduce Mati and her mate, and it had not gone well for either; they were jittery about it. But the man did not think that anything like that would happen in the middle of the Kingdom. Though things were happening, everyone was more or less alright.

"Part of? It's been a bit quieter than I'd like.. to be honest. But when we all get together, it's a party. Last time, it was a ball to celebrate our first birthday... but that was so long ago. We're overdue for one. But there was music, dancing, drinks, and food. Humany. You know." He shrugged; it had been a fun time, the outfits had been gorgeous and he got to play Erika again, his lute. "But as I said, it's been quiet. I'll try to fix that soon enough." The man stretched his arms to the sky briefly, then relaxed again, well at ease. Strel leaned against the tree, shoulder hard against it. "We're not fond of murderers though. Or thieves. Or rapists. I'm sure you're none of those."

He broke from his reverie to glance startled at the woman. With a quick, glance down at the human creation on his wrist, the man smiled meekly at the stranger. "Of course there is, but that is probably a story for another time. I don't feel much up to souring your day with dismal stories." The story was not terribly dismal, but Strel had nothing but contempt in his voice when he spoke of how he acquired the trinket. "Perhaps if I catch you around again and you feel like being disgusted, I will." Strelein dropped his arm and fought the itching to wrap his fingers around the bangle again.

She did not think much of her name, but the man could not blame her. He barely thought about his until he had run off to Toronto. "If you think so. I think that names will win without. You are who your name says you are," he finished cryptically, laughing slightly because her name was not exactly the most innocent of things to be named. If anyone took her name that way, anyway.

"I don't," he said with a knowing smile. "But what I know quite well is that there are plenty of gentleman here who would not hesitate to bring you to your knees before they throw you out, hackles raised and all that jazz." He waved his hand at her, wondering if she was honestly the sort to pillage and rage. Nah, Haven alone would be enough to take care of this hungry woman. Strel cocked his head briefly, examining her and decided that she was probably barely a threat if that.

The redheaded man shrugged his shoulders, feeling the cloth around him rising slightly and shifting with his movements. "Maybe. It was once new to the lot of us so I'm not too surprised. I didn't know jack about the humans when I was younger, either." Gazing at the sky, the man noticed the time passing (another trick that Noss had taught him). Good. That meant less time in the day to be bored. "I want to through a party." He glanced at the woman wickedly. "A party on the beach, with drinking, dancing, and music. Does that sound lively?"

A party was what the man wanted, but he would have to talk to Vigilante about it. The problem was not with Vigilante, but probably of their memories. Strel had few issues talking with the King but perhaps he would. Especially knowing what had passed between the tailor and his mate's only brother. But it would have to happen if he truly wanted something so elaborate to happen. And it may have to wait for the weather to turn for a better reason for a celebration, especially if he wanted it to be big and grand and magnificent. Strelein had so many plans but so much rode on others and their choices.

The woman asked a serious question and the man paused, his grin shifting into a line. Was he qualified to say this? To really discuss anything about Cours as though he were a leader here? Before he could stop himself, the redheaded tailor shrugged, rolling his shoulders. "I believe we are. I was not told otherwise." There was no surplus of members here, and a big kingdom was always a good thing; strength came in numbers. But so did diversity and diversity was something the man thrived on, grew with. Change was good and strangers brought change. So the man was sure they were still looking for more, accepting more into the borders. Good thing they kept expanding too, or else it would have been hard to keep such a populous well spread.

Sighing once, the man nodded. "There should be no problem, especially since you're about as threatening as this tree." It was not meant to be rude but the truth that he saw. However, plenty of people wanted to be useful, especially if they wanted to fit in with their new home. "What do you figure you could help us with?"