A scent. It snagged on the wind and sailed across the Basin into the nostrils of a red glowing hound whose curled ears tweaked and gilded eyes were set alight with a fire that lay dormant within him. Velvet lips wrinkled to show a carnivores ivory arsenal and a ripping howl sending an alert to his dozing bonded. Paws scattered against the permafrost and Aramis sprinted to the Basin Time Mender, emotions projecting an alertness into d'Artagnan's mind. Lids peeled open to reveal the maddening mismatched eyes of the Nightshade and he shook himself free of sleep, took leave of his cave and followed Aramis through the night. The Hellhound had his nose to the cold ground, thin tail pointed in the air as baby limbs trotted in the lead. The pup was no fighter yet, but at least his nose worked well enough to lead d'Artagnan to the new situation that had arisen.

They turned a few bends and came across the scene of an escape, a filly of black colouration and abhorrent wings. d'Artagnan presumed this was the filly Crowley had as a prisoner, though he couldn't remember the name. Claws dug into the surface and Aramis gave a low danger like growl to the other pegasus, who was roan in colour and also bared the trademarks of a pegasus. The shade's teeth clenched together and he decided to walk in on their little party, morbidly glowering at the one who he didn't know. The one who called Crowley's prisoner Lana. "That. Is none of your business vermin. Now either you're stupid or have a death wish, you can leave now or I will force you to leave."

d'Artagnan's voice was unforgiving. He had killed before countless times, he had killed in Helovia, the notion didn't bother him more it excited him. It seemed the opportunity to peek into the land of the unicorn was almost too much for the lesser races, the shade was tired of dealing with intruders and this furthered his irritation. If she didn't leave then he would have to make an example of her, their little prisoner Lana was Crowley's and the shade would not touch her without the consent of his brother. The Weaver owned her, the little wretch was unfortunately not his property. "You. Lana is it? I suggest you move out of the way, your trembling makes me sick and I will not interfere with my brother's property."

The Time Mender shifted his attention back to Aryel then, eyes narrowing dangerously as if daring her to try anything. The fact Crowley wasn't here to stop Lana maybe an inkling that he intended to let the mare go, the other one however, would have to make her decision fast.