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.