It was the urge to explore the vast Wilds further that had pulled Sinaaq from the darkened depths of the Blackfoot Forest and had him heading further south. He enjoyed it in all of it's ghastly glory, unafraid of the lore that had surrounded the forest like a opaque veil. And since his meals had consisted of little else but fox during his stay there, he had downed the population a bit — though he doubted that he had put much of a dent in it. Their eerie cries still had rang through the night, shrill and banshee-like, becoming a lullaby even as the sound caused the hairs at his nape to prickle. The place had fit the darkling though, a nightmare living in a nightmare forest and his reluctance to depart it — as if he feared someone would be brazen enough to claim it in his absence — had been great but there was much more for him to see and many decisions that he had yet to make. Could he so easily make them without investigating what all the Wilds had to offer him? No. He was not so rash.Thus, Sinaaq had set out traveling for many days and nights, resting in the afternoons, using the cover of night to cloak him though the nights proved to be cooler than the days but he was hardly bothered. Without the infection to slow him down he was able to make great travel time and yet the wretched found himself wanting for his nephew's company. It was a complicated relationship of fierce love and abhorrent hatred. He had never forgiven Adlartok for leeching away Frigga's life as she gave birth to him, stealing it from her moments after the infectious child had drawn his first breath, stealing her last — making him an infection to Sinaaq who had taken the only creature he had ever loved from him, his sister that had saved him from living a dull life in worldly blindness as the sperm and egg donors had. Sinaaq hated his nephew for that, but loved him also because he was all that Sinaaq had left of Frigga. It was only after three failed attempts at ending the newborn's life did Sinaaq realize that what he hated was also, infinitely precious to him. This conflict was true even now, he missed Aldartok but he didn't. Always an impossible conflict.
Sinaaq had risen earlier than the sun, decided upon switching up his sleeping schedule a bit to find the tree line he had taken shelter under concealed by thick fog. Even when the sun had risen the fog did not dissipate and Sinaaq had no choice but to brave it, muzzle tipped towards the earth to take in the scents around him so that he did not accidentally find himself trespassing. Drawn by the sound of water he drew nearer to the bank of the lake, unable to see it's size in the fog that writhed as if it were living around the territories, but lowered his muzzle towards it to lap at the cool water, nevertheless.