Life in the Basin had been quite hectic as of late, what with the meeting of the herd, the return of an old King, his promotion, as well as his planned gathering of Plague hopefuls to see if they would accept his offer, to become a part of the secret society. The stallion wasn't quite sure what he would do should any of them decline, but he doubted he would have to worry about that.

It had been more of Talbot's decision than his own to venture out of the cradle of their home, the pup's constant whining and gnawing of his leg finally drawing the brindle away and following him. Crowley had wanted nothing more than to laze in the Basin for the day, to take advantage of the day and simply relax, but it seemed there was never any rest for the wicked.

"Don't you think we've gone far enough?" The brindle spoke up, realizing just how far they had wandered from the Basin. They'd just passed the boundary of the Threshold, and were drawing closer and closer to the deep forest. Although it would be a different story within a year, the depths of Helovia were no place for a pup of Talbot's age. However, the Hellhound simply stopped for a moment and turned his head to look at his caretaker, giving him a straight faced look before continuing on his merry way. With a look of mild surprise, Crowley exhaled roughly and followed after the pup, but not before rolling his eyes. "Kids."

However, not a minute later did the pair hear the telltale sound of another, their voice sounding rather distressed. For a moment Crowley thought of simply ignoring it, for that was his nature, until suddenly, he found himself recognizing the voice. Slowly, a smirk crept across his face, and he knew just who it was.

Aryel.

Crowley was hardly able to hold back his laughter as he pressed on, moving into a swift trot, with Talbot scampering alongside him. It didn't take long for the pair to move into the clearing, and what they saw, Crowley could hardly believe. Aryel, the damned Pegasus he'd held a grudge against ever since their first encounter, was stuck in the grasp of an impressive root. Her hind legs were splayed out in defeat behind her, a most hilarious thing to behold. She wasn't alone, however, for the strangest of creatures was at her face, pushing, as if it had all the strength in the world to set her free. Also present was the white wolf of the Basin, who he recalled as Lupus. He was one that would be offered a position amongst the Plague, but Crowley wouldn't bring mention to it until later.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Came the Weaver's voice, barely suppressing his laughter. Cloven hooves carried him over to the fallen Pegasus, coming to a stop at her side as he surveyed her position. This time, he was unable to help himself, laughter escaping his throat as he shook his head. "You're in quite the predicament, darling, what on earth were you thinking?"

With nothing but curiosity upon his face, Talbot hopped away from his bonded, eyes locked intently on the winged creature at the face of the Pegasus. He wasn't sure what exactly it was, but surely it would be much more willing to play with him than the hooved giants he was always around, right? A high pitched bark erupted from his throat as he dropped down on his front legs, his rear in the air, tail waggling back and forth in his display of young innocence.


"blather blather blather"