d'Artagnan watched his bonded and felt the gentle tug in his mind that connected him to Aramis. The emotion his hound conveyed was mostly anticipation and impatience if anything, the shade knew that in time this bond would get stronger. They would learn new things together, how to fight in harmony with each other and most of all; slay their enemies with hoof and claw. The Nightshade would have delved deeper into his violent thoughts if it wasn't for the luminescent red glow and surprised thoughts of his bonded. The crimson element signs that would later mark him a fire wielder, were flickering at the pups changing emotions. Apparently, someone was coming.

Sharp gaze looked around before they met the form of Crowley, the Weaver who too had a Hellhound dog to call his own, though d'Artagnan had yet to learn the name of this tiny monster. The shade proffered his head in friendly greeting and rather wearily looked over at Aramis, who was now bounding up to Talbot with overgrown paws playfully trying to bat the other pup whilst making a rather strange yipping noise. Always rambunctious. "I forget what it's like to be young" he rather dryly commented on the matter. Though he couldn't now imagine a life without Aramis, he was his eyes and ears. So much more fine tuned they were, a perfect guard for the Nightshade. No longer did he have to watch his back. "What do you call your companion?" Watching the youths with a wistful shake of his head before turning back to the brindled stud with curious eyes and a questioning tone.

Regarding Crowley, d'Artagnan was rather pleased they finally had a chance to talk to one another without having to fend off some over zealous boggart, between snippets of conversation that mainly consisted of comradely encouragement. The shade had developed a lot of admiration for Crowley after that incident and had always wanted to seek him out again. He waited for the stud to answer before continuing on "How are you finding your promotion, brother?"

d'Artagnan couldn't think of anyone better to rise to such an important role, Crowley handled himself in a way that in the shade's mind would benefit the herd greatly. He wished too that one day, they could fight side by side again. The Time Mender couldn't remember when he'd ever enjoyed a fight so much, perhaps when he killed that loud mouthed equine. That, however, was another kind of 'fun'.