From his spot pressed up against the stallion's cannon, Talbot could feel eyes upon him. With a sudden start his golden gaze snapped to their surroundings, scanning intently for any signs of company. Young as he was, Talbot knew well that the Basin presented no danger to those who called it home, but he couldn't help but be on Edge with his master's current condition. He could feel the stallion tense beside him, and pausing, the hound offered a reassuring lick to his knee before turning his gaze back to the expanse of white and thick of trees.

Not a moment later, the pair had their eyes on the spying culprit, watching as she approached with gentle steps. The way she carried herself suggested to Talbot that she wasn't a threat in the least; in fact, he swore that she looked familiar, but the pup wasn't aware of the redmane's name or her place within the herd. His innocent musings were zapped away in an instant, however, when a wave of absolute terror washed through him.

But of course, it belonged to Crowley, not him.

With a sharp, popping snort, the Weaver danced to the side, his eyes ever wary of the mare's form and her proximity to his position. Of course Crowley was completely aware of just who this Thief was who had joined him this night, but overwhelmed with a tsunami of fear, any sense of reasoning as to the Thief's sudden appearance was washed away. She had to have come for a reason. If one examined him with scrutiny beneath the moonlight, they would see the quivering of his legs, prepared to whirl him away and flee from the danger that this mare must have presented. Obviously she had come to punish him in some way, shape or form... After all, he had been gone for several days, so it was only right that the Basin would put an end to him.

Right?

"W-What do you want?" He stammered, his accented tone laced with the very fibers of fear, "I swear, I... I didn't mean to..." Taking a few more steps away from the mare so that he was at a more comfortable distance from her, the Weaver produced another sharp snort, the whites of his eyes flashing in the pale moonlight from above. "Sh-She sent you, didn't she? Psyche... She told you to come and kill me. I know she d-did."

Standing between the Weaver and the Thief, Talbot found himself uncertain of what to do. This was turning out to be a horrible predicament; he could only hope that this would end quickly, and that the entirety of the Basin wouldn't find his sudden change bizzare and cast him away. Turning his gaze to look at Faelene, Talbot took a single step towards her and gave a soft whine, the tip of his tail wagging gently behind him. Only after he knew he'd gotten her attention did he gaze towards the moon, then to Crowley, back and forth once more, and then finally back to the mare. He couldn't speak to the redmaned lady, and this was all that he knew to do that might work.