Right, cars. That all would be foreign to one who came from an era as different as Miss Bellaforte seemed to. Crowley stopped caring for horses the second their necessity waned. They were touchy creatures, spooked easily and whojly inefficient. Plus they didn't come equipped with a radio. He was a far bigger fan of his Bentley, no matter that it was old enough that it didn't have seat belts in it and if you left any cds or tapes in the car overnight they played Queen and only Queen from then on forward. Besides, horses made him think of the the Horsemen were suppose to ride in on.
Though apparently they traded in the equines as well. This time for motorcycles. Crowley approved of the transition, though he supposed it was lacking the biblical image of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse if they lacked horses. Bikers of the Apocalypse.
He supposed it made sense when you took in account the various Biker gangs around. Hell's Angels and all that.
Crowley's focus returned to the girl and the quadriped, with something of a grin on his face. He was considering telling her exactly how easy it was to scare plants into growing properly when you could do horrible things with your form and face. It might have been worth it just to see the look on her own face at hearing such a thing, if not for the fact that she was so blindingly innocent. "There is pretty much anything you'd imagine here, it would seem." He said. And some things she wouldn't as well.