Something was wrong. Something was terribly, dreadfully wrong.

From the moment he had awoken, the Weaver had been stricken with a crippling, all consuming fear. It wasn't the sort of fear that shook you from sleep after a nightmare, though, for it remained, clinging to the brindle throughout the remainder of the day and inherently making him act a fool. Though he wouldn't think it until later, he was thankful for the darkness that lingered over the lands of Helovia, cloaking his pitiful state from the majority of his herdmates.

As always, Talbot remained at his master's side, doing his best to keep the stallion calm, but Crowley seemed to be afraid of even him this time around. In a kicked up frenzy of snow the brindle would whirl away, ears twisting backwards and eyes rolling white in his head. Talbot could never imagine doing any harm to his bonded, be it physical or emotional, and to see the stallion react in such a way was certainly disheartening for the poor pup as he kept a watchful, distant eye on Crowley.

However, nothing could prepare the poor hellhound for what was to happen next.

In the star strewn sky above, there was an unnatural light lofting slowly over the mountainside, leaving a trail of light in its wake. To anyone else, it might have been obvious that this was some sort of magic gifted to whatever creature it adorned, a Pegasus no less, but to Crowley, it was everything but. His body rigid, the Weaver watched as the abomination slowly bring itself ever closer to the ground, not too far from where he was.

Oh, God. It was coming to get them all.

Throwing his head into the air, Crowley went from a stand still to a sudden flurry of motion, leaping into a gallop. Plagued by absolute terror, he ran. "ALIENS!!" He screamed, trying to warn those that would probably end up terrifying him just as much as this 'alien' was, should he actually witness any of their faces in his panic. Onward he went, with Talbot fleeing after him, struggling to keep up with the hulking mass of the Weaver, for his strides were hardly anything compared to the stallion's.

But then, the glimpse of a dark greyed body captured the brindle's attention, nearly causing another scream to leave his throat. Putting on the brakes quite suddenly, Crowley turned his head to view the scene beginning to play out before him. Though several hundred yards away, they had surely heard him, but it was currently the last thing on the stallion's mind. There were three of them from what he could tell, but only one of which he could say he knew. The gleaming atrocity had landed and now stood with the General, as did another, a crimson coated unicorn he did not recall.

While he would have normally marched right up to the Foothills intruders and demand they explain their reasonings for being here, that wasn't true on this particular day... Night. Whatever it was. Instead, he closed the gap between himself and the trio until he stood approximately one hundred yards from them, granting himself enough distance to get away if the occasion arose. They spoke of a contract, the very one where his services had been offered in exchange for warriors should his home come under attack. But now, it seemed they wanted to change the stakes. Now, they wanted warriors.

"But why do you need warriors?" The Weaver barked, eyeing the strange couple with a peculiar look, already grimacing at the thought of having their eyes on him. To his right, Talbot had caught up and sat upon the snow covered ground, watching the group of four with ever watchful eyes as his master spoke. "How long would this 'exchange of capabilities' hold?"