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.
One day, the cold hand would clasp upon her, and there was no escaping her fate.
Only the calm thought of it being nowhere near due to her youth, reassured her. Hopefully, her conscious unhelpfully added.
The obsidian hellion arose to her fours, noticing her strength was unebbed by pain. Thanks to her leaders insist on surviving with no sympathy, she was able to handle more than what she had, previously. The ebony knew he wouldn't accept her gratitude through words, but only through paid actions, would she be forgiven. That would be her goal, until she earned the trust she desired from him. And earn it, she would.
Raven remembered the screech, and again, it resounded in her head, the pain of the animals cry lodged into her skull. Where had it come from? And from who? It sounded to be a small mammal, ..either that, or a young wolf.
That shook her a bit to her core. Though Syver had prepared her a bit physically, her emotions were still her own.
So with unprepared resolve, the dark femmora left the little makeshift temporary den she had made, and went north east, where she had felt she had heard the reminents of the cry.
Scanning with her silverized blue irises, Raven noticed a smell that had beckoned her to investigate. Blood. With a quick prayer to Azarartha, she continued her trek closer, until she came upon a sight. A dark wolf, by scent, a male, and one who was thoroughly enjoying a freshly murdered fox. No doubt, by his paws.
She wasn't too close to him or his feast, so she shuffled her paws a bit to not startle the blackened brute. She decided she did not have any intention to fight, and she had no chance of winning, because his stature seemed more so to outweigh hers.
Hesitation clearly evident in her voice, she called out to him,
"Hello.."
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.
"Does fox taste appetizing?" She had questioned, trying to quell the shake in her voice. She had never tried them, for they always alluding her, and she had a massive diet of fish, dining on the scaled cold bloods with Syver, as they had roamed mainly by the seas.
Raven did not dare to follow her impulse, the constant throb to return her iced blue grey gaze to his own.
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.
"I havent had them before..they are not common where I dwell."
Then the darkness cloaked males question stopped her cold. Mate? She had no mate. She had never had such a thing. She had been desired, yes, but she had ended it before the lovers pack could fued with hers, causing death and destruction over such a petty lust. Then he had admitted he had never loved her anyway, so the mutual friendship was obliterated. By simple words alone. No, she had no mate. And that was nothing be be ashamed of. At least, not that she knew of..
"Mate?...What mate? I have no such significant other who desires me for such a niceity." Then it hit her. Syver. Her protector. He wasn't her mate. He was her 'Jarl' as he had termed himself to her, and the relationship they shared was one that did not exist on terms of love.
"He is not my mate. He is my leader. My alpha. And no need to ask him, after all we will soon be leaving this place, i believe his heart of travels never stops beating."
At the mention of the deer meat, she had recalled a cache of venison she had made a few days back, and hoped no other predator had reached it first. If this male still had hunger in his stomach, she could atleast be nice enough to fill it.
"I am Raven. Are you still hungry?" the onyxed hellion asked, a bit of curiosity betraying her intent to show no weakness.
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.
That's a foolish question. Why would he ask such a thing, the obsidian femme pondered. Did he think she was some mindless drone, who followed another, with no cause? No reason? No reasoning behind her cause? Her fur desperately wished to bristle at the question, the insult, yet she remained humble. She had learned more times than once, that her damned temper would have the potential of getting her killed.
Thats how she ended up in the spot where she was, now.
"Of course I would not do such a foolish task. Then again, my leader would not do such a foolish action. He holds intelligence captive in his mind, and hostage on his tongue. He is not a daft soul, nor am I."
The hellion made the mistake of glancing at his irises again, the taunting, toying, and beckoning color of the brightest and untainted of yellows. With a prayer to Azarartha, she managed to focus on his voice.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sinaaq."
Raven gazed at him with wonder as to why he rejected the almost-offer of food. Was he truly full? Or was he too, shielding a weakness? She shook her fur, ridding it of the small debris that had settled itself there during her light slumber. Syver had shown her how to regulate her sleeping, where she still slept, but a truly astonishing amount lighter, to where she was now aware of her surroundings. Unlike how she was, the day he found her.
Her gaze met his once more and, again, she broke their staring contest only to look at him like he had made a decision she had not expected. Wicked brow rose as he waited for her to speak her confusion aloud for him but he was left with disappointment for she did not voice out whatever had been dancing around her mind. A moment of silence, stretching out between them, followed of which Sinaaq had no interest in filling. He was a quiet creature by nature, seclusive, except when it suited him. For the moment, it seemed, they had ran out of things to discuss and the darkling considered parting with her, desiring to be alone to his thoughts and suppressed loneliness.
She didn't need any more scars than what she had.
"You see him as a bossy companion. I see him as the one who saved me from Death's cold lust, himself. You see what you wish."
Raven gazed at the dark male, his irises alone seeming to hold twin suns captive in their depths. Almost painful to look at. But the frozen tundra of her own stare remained unmelting in the fiery stare.
"The basis of his decision making skills is not your business, either. It is his, alone. Same as mine."
The black lady was holding the ground beneath her, onyx claws ravaging the soft loam under her, in the sharp embrace.
Attempting to sway the method of conversation from her light, she decided to make a vocal lunge at the pit shaded hessian.
" What brings you here? Are you here with any intent?"
The frost that had now drifted over her words were quite noticeable, making each their own distinct temperature of artic. Yet Raven had not said them in a cold enough manner to freeze the conversation, just enough get things to slide a bit more smoothly between the two lupines.
A silence had settled between the two obsidian cloaked creatures, her face cut with glacier colored eyes, his burned like embers. Sinaaq was content with silence, and more than used to his own companionship. He was reminded, abruptly, why it was there were no wolves that he could actually consider friends, none besides the Infection and Solia. He was staring at it but made no effort to bother to correct it. Why hide who and what he truly was all in the name of companionship? He was better off alone and very much used to it in the same way that something broken got used to being in shattered pieces. Sometimes the pieces would be all together in a bowl with the intent of being fixed but knew that it would never, realistically, happen. Her questions were chilly, devoid of an amiableness that might have, maybe inclined him to respond in kind. Instead, the darkling looked at her through heavy lidded eyes and spoke in a subtle hiss, “My business is my own,” And therefore doesn't include you in Sinaaq's typical sassy way.
After a moment he waited, though when the silence continued to stretch between them the Arrluk let out a soft snort, turned and without another word walked away leaving her to what he considered to be her delusions.