Alpine Lake self sabotaging like this

Svalinn, as far as he could remember, had never been this far from the Redhawks' plateau. And he had certainly never gone this far alone. There was a time before, where the miles had fallen away beneath him and he had traveled nearly the entire map under Caiaphas' duress, but that had all been within his home territory as far as he knew. Distance had little meaning to him, so it was little to no surprise when he found himself somewhere entirely new, unbothered and pushing forward— it was actually quite a wonder this hadn't happened sooner.

He felt entitled to it all. Every piss he made was to make sure someone else knew he had been there, and that he owned it. He was halfway to owning Tuktu when he came across a burly figure by the water. Svalinn hesitated to approach, his gold cape rippling villainously as he remembered his hard lesson about strangers. Wisely, he kept his distance, but because he had a forward nature, he called out: "hey!"

He stood at attention as he looked to be noticed, and remained prepared to bolt at any moment— though there was something sly and determined about his face, as if his being wary was more necessity than choice. "Who're you?" he pressed, practically having to shout to be heard over the space he kept between them.