Admittedly, Crowley was surprised when the pale mare was the first to speak up to him. Twisting his head around to look briefly upon her, he wasn't sure what to say to her. She wasn't being inherently rude, but her words weren't doing anything to quell his rising, boiling temper. Normally Crowley would proffer some sort of snide comeback and go on about his business, but turning his gaze back upon the Pegasus, he chose to ignore her for the time being. His goal was to get the blumbering fool out of his home and away from his family, and as quickly as possible.
Exhaling roughly, Crowley met the youngster's azure gaze with his own golden depths. With ears dipped back in clear annoyance, he watched the pale colt examine his foreleg, as if admiring himself with a disgusting grin on his face. 'Narcissistic bafoon,' he growled in his mind, then watched as the colt went to faking a cowering stance. Honestly, Crowley didn't care how tough the intruder thought he was; as far as he was concerned, he would get what was coming some day, be it today or years down the road.
Rolling his eyes, the brindle gave a sharp flick of his tail and fixed a bored gaze on their winged guest. Wolves ought to be the last thing on the lad's mind, for they wouldn't come along until after he was dead. The Weaver might have spoken the fact, but he feared more irritating retaliation from the monstrosity flapping above them. It was laughable, really, the stupidity that this Pegasus was displaying. In Crowley's eyes, this only confirmed the stupidity of the lesser races.
"How about you come down here and face me like a real man?" He says gruffly, already prepared for a bombardment of petty insults or childish laughter. "If you're so tough, then why do you linger in the air? You're nothing but a coward, a child. A worthless waste of air." If it was a fight he wanted, it was a fight he was going to get.
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HP: 45
