With his head dropped, the sound of Levi's hooves against the packed sand below was the only signal given to the brindle as to what his opponent was doing. The Weaver kept his head tucked, however, following through with his attack all the same. A moment later, he could feel one horn drag across Levi's barrel with satisfying force. He'd certainly cut into him judging by the grullo's grunt, but he had not impaled him, such a thought nearly causing the stallion to frown. His kick proved to be in vain, however, for his hooves only met the still air of the night before resuming their position in the sandy earth as Crowley moved away from Levi at a lengthy, steady trot.

Talbot's initial plan of attack hadn't worked entirely the way he had wanted to, but his jaws did find themselves wrapped around the lower part of the grullo's left wing. It was better than nothing, at least. The hellhound bit down with as much force as he was able, pulling his legs close to put as much weight on the wing as possible as he began to thrash himself back and forth, left to right. The more damage that was brought to the Pegasi's wing, the better chance they had at victory.

Now that Levi was tied up with trying to deal with his partner, Crowley had turned to face Levi again, having placed himself at the grullo's right. With cold, calculating eyes he watched. Did the Pegasus really think that he could win? Whether the Basin was victorious or not, Crowley intended to shut at least this one's mouth and leave him with a good impression on the Basin. Crowley wanted to see Levi and all of his kind's blood spilled until they were no more, even if they must resort to taking one down at a time.

A yelp catching in his ears as the Throat stallion retaliated, his bite landing right on the back of Talbot's neck. It was successful in pulling skin and fur away, pain radiating down the hound's spine down to the very tip of his pointed tail. It would leave a bruise for quite some time, and it was enough to make him drop from Levi's wing and turn tail, scampering directly away from Levi's left as quickly as he was able in order to plan his next attack from a distance.

It was when Talbot's yelp had rang out that Crowley rushed forward in a gallop under the cover of the eternal night, hoping it would aide him in remaining undetected despite the crunch of sand beneath his hooves. As he drew closer to Levi, the Weaver curled his neck and brought his nose close to his forearms, horns poised and pointed for the right side of Levi's barrel. Using the last couple yards to slow himself, Crowley then threw his head up, intending to jam his spiraled horns into the soft underside of Levi's barrel, but the brindle would be just as happy if he were to pierce any other part of his horrendous, winged adversary.

[WC ;; 521. 2/4 attacks. 1/2 magic/companion uses.]