His head snapped to look towards the source of the sound. His own name had not been spoken aloud in so long he could barely recognize it. The mare had been calling him "My baby" for months and it didn't matter how many times he had corrected her. "Sparrowhawk" sounded foreign but, unforgettable- surely. Though who on this plain could know to call him that was, in an instant, a mystery he begged to unfold.

To see his old friend's grey form on the horizon line was masterful. The way their borzoi shape echoed all his memories of the past as he stood, just in reach. For a second- perhaps it was The Great Mare who intended to lead him off. A vision so that he could be moved but, this one was so real. So tangible.

Sparrowhawk took a hesitant step forward into the grass, his maw parting but no words coming out. He hesitated- a mixture of disbelief and skepticism held his tongue. Though it could not keep him for long, thus was his way.

...Mink...? His voice began softly, questioning to himself if his eyesight was confident. He blinked to clear it and yet the vision did not fade. In fact, it approached him. Coming closer from off the hill.
Mink! He couldn't contain it now, his excited voice gave his legs more energy than they could care for and they took off from underneath him. His body moving before he could even think, sprinting towards the image of his friend. Oh how prayed deep within his soul, in even the seconds it took to reach him, that this wouldn't be a trick.

When close enough and without much thought, Sparrowhawk would intend to tackle Mink. Tumbling him into a playful roll- a more than friendly hello but also a way for Sparrow to ensure his friend was truly with him. If Mink was faster than he remembered, however, he would likely land with his paws catching underneath him so he could slide and try again. His tail waving like a white flag after a long war.