His children were emerged, fresh into the world and already benevolent and filled with all of the kindness of the earth. As far as he was aware, the little ones were tucked away in the garden, sleeping away their woes and most certainly preparing for another boisterous bout of energy and playing. He trusted the little ones to stay safe and to take care of one another. The scarred old lion, then, set to meandering about Eridanus, uncertain of what in particular he was seeking out. Perhaps a drink or some exotic, unknown flower to bring back to the twins. He, of course, did not want to be absent for too long.

Mercurius didn't feel entirely safe by himself after his miscast of light. For now, he'd not cast anything related to that, for his and the children's sake. They did not need to see what horrors he had lived through without understanding and grasping them. If only he hadn't failed to rein in his thoughts and racing mind.

Perking up toward the sound of a gentle, prodding voice, the lion stopped in his wanderings. Moonset eyes scanned the undergrowth, flickering through and behind each fern, each tangle of vines. Until, at last, there was someone who seemed to be the owner of the voice. For all his wariness, the stranger seemed nice; something about the innocent, dog-like face just spoke to him. Mercurius plodded closer, carefully bowing his head and keeping a rather great distance between himself and the stranger, he rumbled, "what are you doing?" His tone held no hostility, no aggression. If anything, he was almost defensive, ready to bolt at any moment. Whatever the hybrid was doing, it had him rather dumbfounded. Why were they carrying a bunch of grass? Furrowing his brow, the lion focused upon the grasses in front of the stranger.

Moments later, they had begun to grow a little taller and sprout spikes at their peak, lined with ripe and new seeds.

Someone in Pisces who fell through the ceiling? Distantly, Mercurius stared up at Eridanus's own ceiling, marveling at the sheer height of it. In general, all of the caves were rather tall. To fall from that high up could mean nothing good. Of course, the stranger did not mention anything about injury, only... a lot of animals. 'What kinds of animals?' the lion wondered with a slight tilt of his head. Well, the hybrid seemed benevolent enough, whispering thank you to either him or the grasses; Mercy chanced a few steps closer, blue eyes meeting similarly hued ones.

"Hello, Oliver," he began with the gentle bow of his head, "my name's Mercurius, but most just call me Mercy. It's most certainly a lot shorter." The dog-bird repeated the ceiling-faller's plight once again, this time with his own personal task in mind. At the nervous question, Mercy simply chuckled and allowed his gaze to sweep the whole of Eridanus. "You act as if we're in low supply of plants. As long as you aren't one of the folks who keeps burning this cave down, you have every right to be here as I do." Whoever kept setting Eridanus on fire, albeit on purpose or not, really needed to pack up and go live in a more fitting place, like Fornax and Monoceros. Not that Mercurius had any particular inclination towards booting his peers from caves on the basis of anything.

Anyways... perhaps fate had brought him to help this strange hybrid. Mercy edged a few steps closer, brows quirked, "may I be of any assistance?" To demonstrate his entire resume, the lion lowered himself towards a rather small, scraggly clump of grass. With a shot of magicka, the grasses had sprung up into seeding stems. Running his teeth over the spikes, loosening the seeds and sending them back to the earth to nurture new growth, the pale beast plucked the grass at its roots. A large bundle in his jaws, Mercurius flicked his tail and came closer to Oliver, yet kept a foot or two of distance. Just in case.

Mercurius was eager to relinquish his grip on the grass stalks he was presently holding, even dipping his head down to make it easier. Moonlit eyes blinked softly, warmly, and he smiled at the strange crow-dog. He wasn't at all made impatient by Oliver's childlike rambling and roundabout manner of speaking, and listened attentively to every word. "That's a good idea, really," the pale beast nodded quietly and spared a glance towards Eridanus's exit, "the bone pit's quite... desolate." The room itself had a foreboding aura --- which was saying something once you managed to get through the foggy tunnel that separated it from the rest of the Caves. Mercy shuddered slightly at the phantom sensation of mist clinging to his fur.

As for the cat covered in plants, it rung a bell or two. "Rift?" Mercurius hummed, watching as the crow-dog spurred some growth in the plants underfoot. The question was more rhetorical, really, despite not properly knowing the so-called Guardian or even seeing hide or hair of him. "I've not met him but my friend --- Pride --- says that he is kind." The mentality of lording over plants and what should be done with them seemed unwarrented and not... friendly. 'Maybe that had been an early judgement,' the lion mused. It was uncharacteristic of the pale deer to do that, but true colors tended to remain hidden.

"That's not fair of him, if my opinion matters," Mercy's tail flicked slightly as he made to encourage some growth beneath his own paws, "the Caves belong to no one, I don't think. And... we do not belong to the Caves." A joking tone edged into his voice as he rumbled softly in his best fatherly voice, "if that cat yells at you again, I'll give him a stern talking-to." The pale beast's great head dipped down, jaws again taking up the grasses under his paws near the roots and pulling them up. Gently setting them before Oliver, Mercurius offered gently, "I'd be happy to help with your Canis project. I have a garden, not too far from here, that's host to quite a few plants I've found across the caves."

Mercurius unintentionally shuffled backward, ears lowering as the crow-dog rushed to take the offered plants. Sudden movements still had him on edge, it seemed. The whole fiasco with his magic seemed to have served as a catalyst to that. He held a peculiar confidence that Oliver meant no harm, though, and relaxed almost immediately. "Yes," the pale lion rumbled with a confused tone, as if the sudden growth of plants had been rather obvious. Of course, there was no annoyed or impatient notes to his voice; he was too old for those. His gaze moved this way and that, eying the undergrowth for another candidate for blossoming and flourishing. "You're welcome, Oliver," Mercy murmured softly, a warm smile turning up his lips, "I've been able to grow plants all my life and was rather…" He paused with a soft hum. "Rather encouraged to do so."

The pale beast drifted closer to another collection of undergrowth, face turned away but ears catching every word spoken. Oh, Oliver was a mender! Caves knew they needed more of those. Mercurius himself knew a little bit about healing, but had never heard of closing wounds with vines or to bring about clean water. Perhaps there could be a mutual exchange, here… Pawing at a cluster of rather well-grown grasses, the lorespinner looked back towards Oliver, nodding, "I'd be happy to try and teach you about the plants and what possibilities there are. Then, perhaps, you could teach me a little bit about healing and cleaning water."

Giving an encouraging bit of magicka to the grasses, the lion cut them at the bases and wrapped his jaws around them. Just before his mouth was full of plants, Mercurius glanced back to Oliver and added, "after we help your friend in Pisces, of course." The waterfall den wasn't too far from Eridanus, and his garden was well-fortified, now. This would only be a moment.

Mercy smiled, simply, and took his thick bundle of grasses into his mouth, careful to balance them perfectly so that not a single blade would be lost. With a nod, the pale lion trailed after the crow-dog, offering a companionable silence thanks to the plants. It wasn't too long of a journey, and Caves knew the beast needed to stretch his legs.