The bears were asleep in their dens and the evergreen forests of the known western reaches of Relic Lore were quiet. Winter's middle month, so far, had treated Adelard kindly with its mild winter storms and decent weather. He had already traveled further than he had ever gone before; his homelands in the north were now several days and nights away by a 'traveler's lope.' The boughs above him shivered and creaked. A sign that something was coming...
Adelard's large and heavy paws crunched underfoot as he stepped along between the cedars. The evenings and late nights would be cold if even the softest powder froze here. His golden eyes surveyed the land as he went, never resting on anything long enough as to be accused of staring. If there had ever been a pack here before, all its history tucked away beneath the thick blanket of snow, all traces of it were surely going to be gone by the spring thaw.
After some time, his slow, meandering walk came to a halt. He was nowhere in particular - no significant landmark in sight. Just flaking, red-barked trees as far as the eye could see. Just for kicks and at tail wag, he pressed his right paw's pads against a random trunk. A calling card of sorts just to let anyone know that he had been there, even if only for the briefest of moments. Planting his paw back into the snow, he decided to test his luck and a string of inquisitive barks echoed out, muffled against the pines. Hello? Is anyone out there? Perhaps, if he was lucky, he'd have the woods to himself a whole while longer, but if anything was to be told about Adelard Gerau, it was that he did not believe in luck...
ADELARD | heat stroke, bring the fire black smoke, I take it higher |