It was, as most of the days seemed to be this season, rather hot. Sweat rolled between d’Artagnan’s legs and his mane stuck to him in all sorts of annoying ways, even his bag slid occasionally from the damp forming underneath. The Doctor had ambled down the mountain only to wish that he’d stayed up there and rubbed his body against the frozen archway for a while. Aramis seemed little affected by the weather and bounced along in front as always, he was a fire breather after all so heat was little problem to this hound. Now and then, the hellion would turn and smirk at his labouring friend, enjoying the levels of grump as he went up the scale the hotter he got. ”You’re not too cold are you?” came the dog’s snickering voice into the irritated vaults of the shade’s warped mind as flames flickered around his chops as if to put an emphasis on it. d’Artagnan frowned and marched off in a different direction like an offended diva, not offering the hound an answer in a charade of overworked irritation. Aramis followed after regardless, a line of humour set jovially onto his lips.

They wandered the threshold for a while, looking for lost souls to tempt or torment, the Doctor’s eye often straying from one interesting looking plant to another. His poison stores always had room for more after all and how long had it been since he’d experimented on anything? Far too long! The shade quickly made that the main point in his agenda for when he returned north. Who knows, maybe he’ll find an interesting specimen to play with on his way back. Some he recognized from the Earth God’s prize of knowledge and others he didn’t, those most likely did nothing at all or had more healing value. He wrinkled his nose up at them and shook his head, wanting something more exciting. The odd pair continued like this until a voice drifted into his ears and Aramis shot a glance in its direction.

d’Artagnan frowned and followed it. Wondering who would be calling the Basin in the Threshold, someone who wasn’t new that was certainly one thing he could glean. When the Nightshade arrived the stallion before him did seem… Familiar in an odd way. Like he may have seen him in some herd meeting or in passing. He was a thick boned lad; the second one he’d seen recently and he moved with all the power that large body would surely grant him. He was not quite as tall as the Doctor, however, and sported only one horn but one would do. One marked him kin. "What about the Basin sisters?" the blood bay laughed as he moved to try stand in front of the beast and Aramis leant back onto his haunches, tail curling around his body. "Any reason why you’re calling the male population of the north?"