In Albrecht Wolff's humble opinion, he had been doing a damned good job of staying under the radar since he had returned to Bellingstone. Had being the key word, of course, for it had only been two days, and he had gone ahead and filed his formal candidacy for mayor the evening before. It had been two weeks now since Jethro's death, and the town had finally come to the conclusion that a new mayor would need to be appointed, lest the balance be lost. It had been the perfect opportunity to slide into the political spectrum, for with a surprise election, proper petitioning could hardly be called upon. The town needed a mayor now.
With his application filed, however, that meant he had been thrust once more into the spotlight, something he had managed to stay out of for six years now. No doubt the newspapers would run with the story over the next day or so, and he'd hate to see that as his first interaction with the people he had left all of those years ago. It had been easy enough to hide in his house or run to his car to go to the city for work, but it was Saturday, and he knew that with the weather, he'd find a majority of the town out and about.
And so, he ran about the house, looking for a pair of sneakers which he had already managed to misplace in his hurried unpacking. But there they were, propped up beside the fridge, and he tied them up with ease. There was nothing that screamed "normal" or "trustworthy" quite like an early morning jogger. Shoving his keys into his pocket, he took in a small breath and let it out before stepping outside.
He began slowly, holding a pace that allowed him to slow down to speak with passerbys but also didn't seem too conspicuous, and made his way down the street towards the center of town.