As predicted, it didn't take long for the Throat to become aware of the threat that had come in through their wide-open door. Most of them were winged, dropping out of the sky towards their desired targets to commence the inevitable battle. Keeping all senses alert, the brindle was prepared to come under attack any moment now, and it was Talbot who alerted him of his approaching adversary.

'Above! Came the young hound's alert, which was more than enough to launch the stallion into action. Digging his hind hooves into the sand beneath him, he propelled himself forward in an attempt to dodge whatever was coming at him. He didn't know at what angle this Pegasus was coming from, for he'd no time to look up and assess that fact, and only knew that he needed to move lest he get pummeled beneath flying hooves of fury.

Crowley had not moved quite fast enough to evade his attacker's move entirely, feeling hooves plow right into the tail-end of the top of his hindquarters. More out of instinct than anything else, the Weaver's ears slicked back and his rear popped up, legs kicking outwards in defense. Keeping at a fast paced trot, the stallion circled to the right to face his opponent and was expecting to be greeted by a whirlwind of sand to his face, but much to his surprise, the grains of the desert had taken to the Pegasi's body in the formation of armor.

From what he could see, his foe was nearly the same size as him, lacking the birthright weapon of a unicorn but instead possessing the limbs of a bird. They ought to be equals, each having an advantage in their own way; the sandy grullo could fly away and bide his time all he wanted, while Crowley had the upper-hand in possessing horns and having the aide of Talbot.

The hornless screamed at him, proclaiming him a 'prick' and that he needed to turn tail now. The corners of Crowley's mouth trembled as they tried their best to hold back a deep, rumbling, sinister laugh, but they failed in the end and it burst forth anyway. "Or else what?" The Weaver questioned rhetorically, though the supposed a part of him truly did yearn to know what this stallion of sand would dare do to him. The Throat stallion could scream like a sailor to him all day if he wanted to, but it wouldn't stop the inevitable fact that the Basin would be victorious today.

But just as soon as the words had started to leave Crowley's mouth, the hideous flurry of wings was coming at him again; and the Weaver could only be thankful for the cover of night that masked the unsightly being. Having not yet ceased movement, it was easy for Crowley to move to the right, going from a trot into a canter. Ducking his head down as the Pegasus grew much too close, the most that the poor sap's hoof hit was the tip of his left horn, jarring the brindle and causing his sight to go wonky for a moment, but otherwise, the kick hadn't done much to hinder him. He couldn't say the same for his opponent's hoof, though.

Circling back to the left, Crowley could see that his foe had grounded himself, dropping the sand that had once bound itself around the grullo's body in a protective manner. The brindle scoffed and nearly shook his head; what an imbecile. Didn't he know that if he truly wished to protect his home, then he should do so using all the advantages that he could? Or did he not care about the Throat after all?

With Talbot at his side, Crowley charged at the Pegasus, arching his neck so that his horns were vertical. As he drew closer to the grullo, anticipating his moving to the left or right, the Weaver made haste to his opponent's left side. Turning his head slightly to the left, his intention was to cause his horns to rake across the Pegasi's face and neck, or whatever they could manage to scrape. A buck followed, Crowley's left shoulder aiming to plow into the grullo's own, before he attempt to turn to the right and put distance back between himself and the Throat stallion.

Talbot was right on Crowley's heels, leaping upwards after his master's attempted ramming, jaws parted and intending to wrap around the joint of Levi's left wing joint. With any luck, he could at least cause a painful flight for the grullo for some time to come.

[WC ;; 774. 1/4 attacks. 1/2 magic/companion uses.]