There was no perceived difference when daylight began to give into the tendrils of night, the overcast day gray, dull and monochrome as they came. The sun had to have been shining, Sinaaq knew but he had not seen even a bare glimpse of it through the thick gray skies. The cold, somber day matched the darkling's mood, despite that fall was one the most aesthetically pleasing seasons as far as the Arrluk was concerned; as it was it did concern him because Sinaaq was vain enough to chronologically order the seasons based on how aesthetic they were to him picking favorites in that manner. Soft scowl touched the deceptively angelic face of the 'pretty boy' as he stalked forth, taking comfort in the greedy shadows that touched out to the charcoal fur that covered the tall, willowy, streamlined creature as each step forward took him deeper into the heart of Blackfoot Forest.

Lore surrounded this woodland like a veil but lore was hardly enough to scare off Sinaaq. He was not so easily frightened, nor deterred. The brambles and spindly branches tugged on the tendrils of his fur as he moved swiftly between them, hungry. He had heard the echoing wails of the foxes that did dwell within the Blackfoot and he was not so picky in his meals to re-categorize them out of 'prey'. At this point, everything and anything was fair game. Body froze, hackles bristling as ears cupped forth into alertness at the sound of a branch stepping under foot. Aldartok, The Darkling hissed viciously in scolding at the infection; it took only a few seconds to remember that he had gotten separated from his young nephew — not for the first time, either, Sinaaq seemed determined in some corner of his sadistic and chaotic mind to kill off the little beast despite how precious Aldartok truly was to him. Breath left parted lips in a slow exhale as black, leathery nostrils flared to inhale the scents around him, aware that he was being watched. He could feel the heat of eyes bearing into him, even as gaze of liquid gold touched the shadows around him, searching for not the threat but his target. Whether it was friend or foe it would soon be his dinner. Debris of the forest floor rustled to his left and head snapped in the direction sharply as his nostrils flared again. It would seem one of the ghastly foxes that roamed this copse of trees at the darkened heart of this bleak forest had found him.

Sardonic smile began to tug at the corners of Sinaaq's lips as he tilted his head, relying upon sound as the dominant sense. The noise rose from the dark of the forest floor and Sinaaq lunged towards the smaller beast, jaws parted grasping the fur of it's neck, paws slamming onto the squealing creature's back with a sharp crack, the cry of pain echoing loudly carried by the copse and darkness around them as the sun sunk lower. For a sick moment Sinaaq considered letting it suffer before his hunger beat out his desire to inflict suffering and he shook his head violently, feeling the snap of the fox's neck mere moments before it went limp in his grasp. Moving it out of the twisted and gnarled roots he unceremoniously plopped it down with a wet splat onto a path a little more worn by travel and tore into it eagerly, still warm blood splashing upon his muzzle, his grumbling and empty stomach demanding no class in his dining habits.

As Sinaaq dined upon his fresh kill his nostrils were overwhelmed with the putrid scent of the creature's blood mixed with muddy earth disrupted by the way in which his kill moved from his eager tearing until the darkling placed a heavy paw upon it's neck to hold it still as he continued to tear it apart and consume it. In some ways, Sinaaq felt an overwhelming amount of relief that Aldartok had gotten lost from him, that his dear infection was not here to see him at this pinnacle of low. Hunting weaselly foxes for food, the endless wandering. A child needed a stable home, this much Sinaaq had taken from his training as a Caretaker. Sinaaq had been given a stable home with Frigga when she had stolen him from the sperm and egg donors, freeing him for the idiocy that was his biological “parents”. The dark priestess' methods had been unorthodox and she had taught her pupil well, so well that he had shown that kind of desolate, warped love to her own son, his nephew. Adlartok had a better chance at survival with him then he did with the lack witted creatures who had, somehow, spawned Sinaaq. So focused upon the epiphany of how he was glad that his little infection was not there to see him as such, Sinaaq was distracted from the world around him attention wise, the rancid scent of fresh carnage had effectively drowned out the woman's scent, else the darkling would have noticed her presence much sooner.

Unfortunately, it wasn't until she was upon him, not close enough to be considered a threat to him or his nearly finished meal but it wasn't until she was close, enough for him to hear the shuffle of bracken under her paws that he noticed her presence at all. Swiftly, Sinaaq's head rose so that he was staring directly at the abyss colored woman, eyes of liquid gold shimmering as blood fell from his muzzle in ruby red droplets. For a second he studied her, macabre and gruesome before salmon pink tongue stained with red swiped across his nose and muzzle attempting to clean himself up a bit. He wasn't necessarily in the entertaining mood but he was a vain creature and he desired to always look his best. Brow rose in a wicked arch over his right eye as she greeted him with a 'hello' that betrayed her trepidation. Hello, the darkling crooned at her, studying what he could see of her though she, likened to him in that manner, was easily camouflaged by the ever darkening forest.

Having been observed while he feasted upon his catch, harboring no regard for the creature's body minimal. What he could not eat, bones and the like, was left disregarded for the scavengers that would come to pick them clean. Or perhaps the ghastly creature's family, if foxes had such things, would come for what was left of it's corpse. It wasn't as if it concerned the darkling Arrluk what was done with his dinner's ratty corpse, blood stained and skeletal since Sinaaq's dissection of all what was good to him. He could not claim that fox was his favorite, nor that it really all that appealing, though it was not as if Sinaaq had the opportunity to be overly picky about his meals at this point. He ate what was available to him as prey and though this desolate forest probably offered other small mammals like rabbits, and wild piglets and perhaps, even, venison he had not given himself the luxury of being a snob in regards to it. It was as Sinaaq preened his muzzle clean from the blood that stained it, known only for the blueish sheen upon his dark muzzle that the woman and his gaze held. Her eyes were the color of sea ice, reminiscent of his name, ironically, though Sinaaq did not comment or compliment upon the chilling coloration of her eyes.

Lips parted as he observed her watching him, held captive, he assumed, by his gaze until she broke their stare off, earning a cant of the wretched's head in subtle curiosity. He could not say if she was pretty or not, unable to stop Solia from hissing around his mind like a reminder that he did not need but insisted upon clawing against his skull, nevertheless. A soft pain of wanting shot through cracked and fissured heart but Sinaaq was quick to form a tourniquet to keep her out of his mind. Nicht. The slipped from betwixt the darkling's lips in a mechanical tone, blunt and hissing, all the same. It is not tender, nor sweet like venison, The darkling responded pushing the pillaged carcass to the side with a quick swipe of a paw. On her pelt she carried heavily the scent of another and again his brow rose in the wicked arch that Sinaaq had perfect long ago. Perhaps your mate can catch one for you. Sinaaq suggested sardonically, referencing to the male scent that clung heavily to her, not sure what else he was to assume. He glimpsed around for the male whose musk she wore but he did not appear and though Sinaaq did not take that to mean that he wasn't around the darkling remained weary of the possibility, nevertheless. He did not have the patience to deal with a jealous, over protective mate, especially when she had found him and not the other way around.

The words the woman presented to the darkling were curious ones but not enough to spark Sinaaq to actually inquire about where it was she hailed from. Of course even if he would have inquired there was nothing that would force her to tell him the truth, for if she inquired as to where he was from the wretched would have lied. Mostly it was because the less association he had with the sperm and egg donors, the better. It had not fallen out of Sinaaq's attention that it did not make sense that he did not shed the name 'Arrluk' as well for it belonged to Akiak and Aga but he had always reasoned, with Adlartok had brought it up, that someone had to restore the glory that had been sucked from the name like parasite sucking the life from it's unfortunate victim. Whether the infection truly saw Sinaaq's point or not the darkling had never cared to pry, though, likely Adlartok had accepted his uncle's logic. It was...almost too easy to convince the smoke colored leech that his way of thinking was correct; but it did not fall under Sinaaq's radar that the child had worshiped him. Idolization was hard to be ignorant to.

Wicked brow rose when she seemed inherently confused about his deeming that the musk of man that clung to the tendrils of her fur belonged to her mate. Sardonic smirk tugged effortlessly at the edges of his lips as she explained, hiding the confusion that hissed like a venomous snake around his mind. The word 'Jarl' resembled something from his own learned language but he did not make that apparent to her. An Alpha with no pack is no alpha, He was just an idiot full with an ego ten times it's normal size. If he threw himself off a cliff would you follow? Sinaaq was curious, curious about how that, supposedly worked. Perhaps it was no different than his and Aldartok's unorthodox relationship, except, at least, the relationship between uncle and nephew made sense. Aldartok needed Sinaaq to live (or had, rather) and Sinaaq needed Aldartok because the infection was all Sinaaq had left of his sister, Frigga. His dark priestess, his savior. Eyes of liquid gold studied her, head canting to the side ever so slightly, tongue gazing his sharp canines in thought as he studied her.

Studying this stranger made him want for Solia, another crack erupting in his already cracked and fissured heart as he reminded himself that he wanted for nothing. That he had to let her go and move on with his life. Such was easier said than done, of course. Attention focused back upon the ebony stranger in full, wondering if she could not think for herself and that was why she was allowing herself to be dictated by a man who, obvious to Sinaaq, whether he was right or wrong, was no true leader, despite that Sinaaq didn't know her self titled Alpha from the fox he had just devoured. I am called Sinaaq, The darkling responded in kind to her introduction — a knee jerk reaction. No, I am satisfied. Sinaaq crooned to her with a flick of his tail. Even if he wasn't, he was not the type to accept charity.