Mercury might not have heard the quiet but distinct sound of heavy footfalls stifled into near-silence by the conscious efforts of their owner, had she not been standing in near silence herself. As it was, the soft hush, hush of the waves and the heavy scent of the ocean masks all evidence of Vadim’s arrival until he is quite close behind her. All at once, she disentangles the footsteps from the waves, and whips around in time to hear the quiet rumble of greeting from the enormous, pale stallion.

“Vadim!” she hisses with equal parts shock, fury, and relief. She’s just spun around like a spooked cat, legs slightly splayed, ears twisted harshly back; but just as quickly one ear twists forward again, then the other, and her nostrils quiver with recognition and she relaxes. It really is him, she thinks with another bout of mild surprise. He’s so pale.

Her amber eyes narrow at him, and she makes a conscious effort not to show her gladness at his presence. “What happened to you?” she demands in a hushed tone, though she’s not sure why; something about the nature of his arrival, so deliberately quiet, sets her on edge and compels her to act with care and listen to every sound that isn’t made by herself or the pale stallion.

Eventually, though it takes her a few moments of feline mistrust, she approaches with her muzzle outstretched. Her eyes are still narrowed, but Mercury butts her nose against his cheek with reluctant affection. “Snap missed you,” she says, and they both know she means Snapdragon and herself.