He knows he is being unfair and hypocritical but he is too angry to care. One might even call him unhinged but unfortunately the hinges are definitely there. He has far too much pent up frustration and nothing to do with it. He would protect the Deserts, but there is nothing to protect against. It's peaceful and quiet - not that he wants it any other way of course.
Of course.
So instead he takes to his hooves, travelling across the expanses of Beqanna in an attempt to burn off energy. Perhaps he will be able to sleep tonight. That would be a nice change. These days his dreams are more like nightmares, haunted by faces that aren't faces anymore. Faces that have melted into boney grins, sockets and hollows.
Somehow he has wound up at the Tundra, so distracted was he. He's not sure how far in he is, but it shouldn't be too far as he stopped as soon as he smelt the brothers. He's not completely disrespectful, and he would never intentionally trespass - his manners are too deeply instilled into him. But he has never been to this kingdom before, to his memory anyway.
Clouds are gathering, heavy and grey. He would turn around and leave but he's not quite sure of the way anymore. He decides instead to wait it out. Someone, surely, would be along shortly.