It doesn't matter. It's in the past.

He was not adjusted to how... damp this new world was. It was if he were walking through water. Every bit of him felt drenched and he wasn't so sure he enjoyed it. Did the wolves enjoy it? Their scent was thick enough here and everywhere he wandered that it nearly gave him a permanent scowl. Not that he had anything against canines, he loved honestly. But their scent, ugh! There needed to be more feline added to it! Spruce it up a bit! Alas, Raumr knew he couldn't just go and do that in common lands and thus settled in to find a place to nap or hunt. Or both.

Just north of the Runestones stood a massive oak and maple grove that was clearly being choked out by thick and untamed grape vines. He felt for the trees, understanding how it felt to be smothered by something that you couldn't get out from under. As he ducks beneath a smaller opening, his fiery orange eyes on the dark canopy above, he is soon reminded of his past. The pressure, the expectations, the smothering. A bad taste fills his mouth and his stomach twists into knots as he carries on through the vined cathedral. Why couldn't his past just stay in the past?

While it's not exactly a welcoming distraction, it's a distraction nonetheless. Lumbering out from around a tree, a large black bear appears, stopping to stare dark eyes in his direction. Raumr freezes, gauging how well fighting the bear would lean in his favor. Not very much, but the way the bear suddenly comes running at him with a loud roar and spittle flying everywhere meant he wasn't getting out of this easy. Resolving with a sigh and settling into a fighting stance, Raumr rushes forward and meets teeth and claws with a set of his own.

Raumr Regalus, the Third