Steven has been in the garden for most of the day, which is largely why he hasn't noticed anything going down about this yet. He's merely noted a few times that it seems like things are taking longer with Sans than they should be, with a heavy note of anxiety at the idea that it might fail, like it had with Athena. His thoughts don't dwell there for longer than he can manage, however. He finds solace in a pile of tiny cats.

The garden's tree cats are more or less a constant source of comfort for him, ever since he discovered their presence. They're one of the only other plant/mammal hybrids he's ever met, and they respond to him sort of like a sentient plant would, which means that when he goes to the garden he can often be seen with a small flock of them, communicating subvocally as they nap together or play.

His mind strays to ideas of trees, at some point. About how he misses his tree desperately, and at how maybe it would be a good idea to find one on the ship. His nymph soul aches at the lack of companionship, and hunting for a new tree wife is more or less what he's doing when he notices Sans up in its bows.

A few of the cats mew in response to Steven's sudden change of mood, one of them crawling up over his shoulder to see what he's staring at.

"Sans!" he yelps enthusiastically.