He didn't see his day going like this. It started off mediocre. Went bad. Then from to worse. And finally to shit. So yeah, he was riding it out on the back of his bike. Was it wise with the rain? No. Did he care? Absolutely not. He sped through the deserted town a mile from the city they were filming on earlier that day. The streets were old, cracked and sunk with potholes and puddles of drowned weeds. He sped through, the rev of his engine rumbling and bouncing off the abandoned walls. Hitting a dip, a spray of water shot up. Shit! Managing to stay upright, he caught a streak of black across dirty grey concrete. Slowing, he spotted a soaked black kitten huddled by a sogged cardboard box. Killing the engine and putting the stand down, he approached the feline slowly, noticing it had a collar. Lost then. Coaxing it gently, he managed to get it into his arms, bundled in his jacket. It purred in the warmth, soaking his shirt but he didn't mind, flipping the collar to find a information on the feline. Cookie, huh? Who names a black cat Cookie? he wondered before brushing it off. Let's see where you're from. Eyes scanned the collar, a frown tugging at his lips. "You're far from home, aren't ya?" he mused. The ride to his home was filled with painful scratches but tomorrow he'd return the feline.

Turns out, Cookie was an excellent name for the fuzzy chocolatey kitten in his hands as he stood on your doorstep, ringing your bell. Well, at least she looks tired. he thought eyeing the bags under your eyes that almost seemed to vanish upon sight of Cookie. Guess, she not a shit owner then. Not much anyway. he mused, handing over the kitten. "I believe this is yours?"