The strangest thing had happened to the Weaver, leaving him cold and even more irritated than usual. Early the previous day, a sleet had begun to fall, and at first, the stallion had thought it just normal Basin weather. But eventually, it became more and more apparent that this sleet wasn't falling over the Basin, but over him, and only him. Considering the absence of the sun and the already chilling climate of the Basin, as well as the fact that this sleet seemed to follow him even into his beloved cave, Crowley was absolutely miserable.

Lying against his shivering master, Talbot did his best to bring comfort and relief to the stallion, though it seemed there was absolutely nothing he could do to help. In his current position, the sleet was pelting him as well, but it didn't affect him quite like it did Crowley. If not for the lack of magic in the land, the young pup might have sought somebody with fire producing magic to come to Crowley's aide, but nobody came to mind. For the most part, magic was out of the question for Helovia's inhabitants, leaving the pair to rely on more natural ways to produce heat and keep the Weaver from losing his mind in a freeze-driven rage.

'If you do not leave now,' the words suddenly caught in the hellhound's ears, causing him to snap his head up to attention as he peered out of the mouth of the cave, growing rigid as he strained to listen and relay the message to Crowley in return. 'I will cause you so much pain, that with every last breath you muster, you'll be screaming for me to kill you.'

Stallion and hound exchanged glances for a brief moment, and although Crowley would much rather stay where he was and wait this god-forsaken curse out, the thought of another incessant intruder marching into their home without a care in the world caused a scowl to mar the Weaver's face. How dare they. "Come on," came his voice with more venom than was necessary towards his trusted companion, and with that he hauled himself back up to his feet, gave a shake to rid him temporarily of the sleet pelting his coat, and off the pair went.

There were four of them, all of which he knew by name except for the youngest. Crowley hadn't heard why she was here, but judging by the reactions of both Arah and the Time Mender's daughter, Aviya, it couldn't have been a very good one. As Crowley approached, his head dropped and his ears slicked back, teeth baring as golden eyes locked onto the champagne coat of the filly. "Get the hell out of my sight, outsider," he warned, but his attention was soon snapped up by the words of the spotted one he remembered as Frost Fyre.

Wheeling towards her and facing her, Crowley surely looked as though he was about to loose his lid. Which he was. "Why, what an excellent question; I always find myself wondering where the respect is when somebody intrudes my home without a fucking care in the world. I don't care if she's young, she shouldn't be here. Where are her parents? Certainly not responsible enough to keep an eye on a child which could so easily be killed by wandering somewhere they don't belong." A step was taken closer to the appaloosa then, and the brindle was fuming at the words that continued to fall from the filly's mouth.

"Aviya is just as old as you are, and I can assure you that she's not made such a dire 'mistake' as this before. It wasn't a fact that the brindle knew for sure, of course, but the young soldier was quite intelligent for her age. "Maybe instead of escorting this thing out, we should just keep it here. Y'know... so the parents can learn the mistake they've made, too. It will be a lovely family reunion, don't you think?"