The plan had been a brilliant one. Due to the Basin's contract held with the Foothills, the mercenaries of the Grey were off helping them to take over the World's Edge. There was hardly a doubt in Crowley's mind that a few of the Throat's own soldier's had gone off to help defend their sister herd, but honestly, it was a mistake on their part. A very, very grave mistake.

It seemed to be a Plague reunion as the group stalked the borders of the desert land, thankful to have the cover of night on their side at all times. They would tire less easily without the heat of the sun on their backs, putting one less worry on their shoulders as several members of both the Basin and the Plague neared the borders of the Dragon's Throat. As he walked, Crowley couldn't help the sadistic smile that curled the corners of his lips at the thought of how this all might play out. What if the Basin did come out of this victorious, on both sides? And they took reign of not only the World's Edge, but the Dragon's Throat as well?

For all that they had done, they deserved every drop of blood lost today.

At the Weaver's side walked Talbot, his nose dropped to the ground and quivered as he sniffed about. It was hard to imagine that this wouldn't be the pup's first taste of real battle, and because of that, Crowley was confident that he would only do better this time around. After all, today they would be fighting similar creatures to himself, not some wretched dragon spawned from the earth itself.

'Not far now.' The words crept into Crowley's mind from the hellhound's, the sensation still incredibly strange to the brindle. Being able to speak to one another would certainly prove useful in a situation such as an invasion like this, and the dark-hearted stallion couldn't wait to put their new abilities to the test.

The footing wasn't terribly different when compared to slippery snow, but he knew he'd still need to keep in mind that this wasn't the best ground to fight on. At least it didn't make a crunch which could possibly alert the current(for now) residents of the Dragon's Throat. Up ahead, her form glinting beneath the open light of the moon, Crowley could see the Empress' silent command to push forward, and onward he went. It was unlikely they would get very far past the unfinished wall and to the center of the land before they were detected, but at least they were in.

Today, the Throat would fall, and the Plague would be one step closer to their ultimate goal.

[WC ;; 459. Opening post. 0/2 magic/companion uses.]