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A large storm was coming through and with it the threat of a flood. One of the graveyards he tended was on lower level and for more likely to be damaged, which prompted the otherwise nocturnal pony to venture forth as the first signs of twilght began to color the skies. This specific burial area was off the road and nearly abandoned, visited only by school ponies on dares to get epitaph rubbings, so he needed not fear running into anyone. The heavy breeze that carried the scent of rain was added insurance.

Slowly, quietly, the changeling hybrid made his way down a well-trod path to a rust iron gate that was far more of the former than the latter. The years had not been kind to anything in this area save for a massive oak tree; the tree was his primary cause for concern, as the roots had been showing signs of weakening. A strong gust could send it toppling and producing a domino effect that would destroy everything.

There were no words spoken as he moved to tie a rope around the grizzled trunk, preparing to anchor down the ancient friend. He would ensure this silent protector endured this weather and he would do it without any watchful eyes.

Somepony was there. Not good. "You should leave." The words came from a voice that hadn't seen use in a long while, a voice that sounded like a whisper coated thickly with years of dust and time. He didn't even bother to look back at the pixie, didn't bother raising his head from where his hooves were working to tie down the last bits of rope that held the tree. "It's not safe here."

Gravestone Ivy spoke again, though this time he did turn. He still wasn't looking, but his movements indicated he had another length of rope in his hooves and was headed in the direction of this newcomer. As he drew closer he simply brushed past, the gentle caress of his feathers a tickle against flesh. The rope was pulled tightly and wrapped about the tree again, with the hybrid giving no indication he cared if this stranger moved or not. He didn't exactly plan on tying her to the trunk but he certainly wasn't going to shove her out of the way.

"Well? Leave." That was all the warning, all the conversation. To the pony it felt like he'd used up all of his allotted words for the month in a single, mostly one-sided conversation. When he got back to his small home he'd make sure to drink some tea to calm the burning in the back of his throat.