And if she truly did care about him in any semblance than she was a fool. He was poison, after all. A nightmare. The jeer lingered upon his muzzle, wordless. Perhaps caring for others was not such a damaging thing but every-time he dared to care about anything other than himself everything went horrendously wrong and he ended up with another crack in his spider-webbed heart. Each new crack begged the question of how much more he could take before it shattered all together. The darkling was in no hurry to find out, and thus determined to focus on the only thing that truly mattered: himself. Even Quicksilver had served to be more proof to his already fairly concrete theory. He had known the other male to be flighty, especially with his women if his boasts held any truth to them but to be so flighty as to leave, especially after he'd showed such brazen interest in the woman whom Sinaaq assessed once more as he glimpsed back over his shoulder at her, had not been expected. Regardless, Quicksilver was gone and Sinaaq was left to this place, alone. As he always was.
Her question brought with it a wicked quirk of his brow, and he tilted his head slightly so fiery light of the ardent horizon, the last fight of the sun before it sunk entirely beneath the rise of the earth in the vast distance played with the shadows that moved across his face. I am long beyond caring for anything besides myself, He informed her in a contemplative murmur. That door had slammed closed and was welded shut tightly with the intention of the contents of the room never seeing the light of day again for so long as Sinaaq could help it. Perhaps this would be the moment in which Cara would tell him to get lost and he would go without an argument. He had no ties here, nothing truly binding him with Quicksilver lost to the wind. If she chose to make the move, Sinaaq was not sure where he would go or what he would do but he had been living as a vagabond long enough by now to not feel bothered by the solitary life. Instinct would show him the way.