Descaro trudged on at a pace that spoke volumes of boredom and ears flopped to either side of his head, thick neck low and eyes scanned the area. His mind was always awake. It seemed his life was slowly picking up, he'd been in a fight, picked up more recruits and overall he was much more satisfied for now. Each metaphorical step was desperately slow, but patience was key to reach the top and he intended to do that even if it took him to his death bed. He would be the stallion that lived in the shadows, doing his duty solidly and creep his way up in his superiors favour. It was both invigorating and agonizing, but he would do it. The snow crunched under his cloven hooves, the air was colder as Tallsun finally left the land and made way for the changing colours of Orangemoon. Descaro glanced up the mountain, noting that the snow would get worse soon and the trek's across the steppe would be even harder, the white wastes would get deeper and more tiring. One would not want to be stuck in a blizzard up there for too long.

The Soldier sighed and his gaze shifted to look at the horizon before him; however, he stopped as he caught a flash of something against the moonlight. Or someone climbing the mountain. Desacro frowned and took a different route up, picking his gait up into a canter and only slowing when the ground got tricky. It wasn't until he was well on his way up the mountain that he noticed the crack of lightning and the rumble of thunder, a storm plagued the night sky and was heading into the Basin. The ground levelled off and the warrior pounded onto the narrow mountain pass, effectively placing himself between the steppe and the basin. His mind churned and he turned to gaze at the golden stallion with crimson and white feathers, he'd seen his flesh before, a prisoner of the Basin and somehow connected to Delinne. Though Descaro cared little for the latter half. He had not heard his General or Psyche issuing an order of release for the feather brain who had made the wrong kind of enemies.

Slowly, he walked towards the stud with an eerie calmness and a raised brow. Enjoying the dramatic edge the storm added with his forelock plastered to his deep bay face. "No, no, no. Don't be rude and leave without saying goodbye." His tone was cool and malicious with a smile that echoed his intent to bar their prisoner from leaving.

For a moment, he looked skyward and shook his head. Did the brute really think he could get anywhere in a storm like this? If he took flight he'd surely be shot down by a bolt and erupt into flames, or was that his intent? Maybe he'd rather die than remain in the realm of unicorns. Well, one could say, he was an idiot for coming here in the first place, he marked himself a target that day. Descaro had no idea what was to be done with him, or what the intentions were of his higher ups, but he had not been given an order to allow any prisoner to leave. Therefore, he would remain in the way of this feathered idiot until told otherwise.