For once, the Weaver had wandered out in the midst of daylight, squinting his golden eyes against the seering rays of the every present sun. Although it shone forevermore above the Basin, the land was forever gripped by the cold fingers of winter, ignorant to the fact that it was Tallsun. Thanks to the natural, mountainous walls that surrounded the land of unicorns, though, they would never feel the unforgiving winds of the Steppe even when Frostfall did come knocking that their door.

Crowley had seperated himself from the rest of the herd as he went about his routine, busying himself with the mundane task of grazing. The dry shoots of alkali grass left much to be desired but it was enough to keep the belly's of his herdmates full, as well as his own. At his side, Talbot was even trying out the grass, but his lips curled back at the strange taste. Why did his towering bondmate always snack on such a disgusting thing? The pup was used to the metallic taste of fresh meat, whereas this grass was tasteless and unpleasant in his mouth.

Giving a shake of his head, the pup spat it out in a tiny clump and stepped back, looking at the shoots with a resentful glare. With a huff, Talbot turned his gaze up at Crowley, who seemed to be ignoring him more than anything else. He was used to the pup's strange antics, and just as soon as he was finished, he'd help Talbot find his morning meal.

But before that could happen, the sound of wings upon the air broke the silence. Immediately the Weaver's head was up, ears twisted forward and at attention. He wouldn't have been surprised to see the snowy owl that belonged to his Bane, but what he did see caused a scowl to stretch across his face. In the distance, he could make out the form of a blue Pegasus, looking just in time to watch the frazzling of lightning disappear. If this intruder possessed magic, he would have to watch his every move even more carefully.

'Follow,' he said through the bond, a simple command, hoping that the pup would receive the message and follow through. He had not toyed much with the mental communication that they seemed to share, as Talbot was not quite old enough to understand the majority of things, although the pup often took notice of Crowley's random musings.

Picking up into a quick walk, he worked to close the distance between himself and the winged monstrosity, ears pointing back as he drew near. "May I ask why you intrude?" The brindle spoke up, drawing to a halt nearly ten feet from the Pegasus. He would give the malformed mare a chance to take to the skies and never come back again, even if every nerve within Crowley begged to strike out and attack.

Talbot had, indeed, followed after the Weaver, looking on at the Pegasus with wide eyes. The pup had never seen such a thing before, and he did not understand; why did this horse have wings sprouting from it's back like the birds, yet no horn spiraling from it's head like all the other horses of the Basin? He made to step closer to the strange, blue mare. "Talbot, no." The words spoken by Crowley were sharp and left no room for argument, and the pup promptly stopped in his advance, and plopped his rear to the ground and gave a pitiful whine.