Adam bloody hated this. 
Being on the back foot. Leaving to hide. There had always been mad witches and Wizards, and they always ended up dead. This would be no different. 
His young arrogance, or naivety had him thinking he could take on the world. Maybe because most of his struggles he had been able to fight his way out of. Running away was something he had done as a child, and swore he would never do again. He wanted to be the best, so he poured himself into his training and studies. Until in his mind, he was. He simply refused to accept the fact he wasn’t. Even if he was just deluding himself. 
Though some part of him must have known he didn’t stand a chance, because here he was. Marching up a hill, in the dead of night. Instead of kicking down a door and unloading two revolvers into a sleeping witch who wanted him dead. 
So here he was. Walking up a mountain. Cold air clinging around him. More so then usual. Despite people always noting it was cold around him, and using frost magic, he didn’t like places when it was naturally cold. He didn’t like not having a wealth of energy to call upon. He energy stores were already low since he was stirred from his sleep for this trek. With little energy to absorb along the way, he was starting to consider starting a fight just to get the kinetic build up of being hit. Though not seriously, as even he could see it would cause more trouble then it was worth. 
[hr]
With the house finally in sight, he hung to the side. Silently listening in. Leaning against the wall in the corner. Not really making any effort to interfere, nor really trying to hide his presence. Just listening to the talk. Trying to figure out what to do. His hands cautiously thumbing the hammer on his revolvers that sat on his hips. He was definitely not comfortable with this whole thing. He didn’t like not being in control.