June 16th; Evening; Scattered Clouds; 51.8 ° F, 11 ° C
Adelard had been following a peculiar trail all evening. Neither predator nor prey, the more the wolf followed, the more he figured it was more of a nuisance. Its path was erratic, frantic, as it scurried across the forest floor and scrambled up and over rocks. Once or twice, Adelard thought he smelled fish or berries in its wake.
Had the creature been anything else and gone anywhere else, he might have left it alone. But, it had chosen to hang about the pack den. Little black claws found the stony entrance of the Chasm, ripping moss and vines from their roots. Adelard assumed it was after the pack's hideaway for shelter or warmth. After the sudden summer rainstorm (which had manifested as a snow squall in the north), it was a prime choice. Inside the cavern, there was security and easy access to drinking water.
The Gerau gave a loud snort as he eyed the cracks and crevices around the pack den. At the bases of the ferns he squinted. There was a trespasser about, and he was not pleased about it.
ADELARD | heat stroke, bring the fire black smoke, I take it higher |