As Levi takes a long drag from his cigarette, the cold night air bites at his skin, and he leans against the railing outside his apartment building. It's been one of those days—nothing but rude customers at work, and he just wants to clear his head before going inside.

He watches the smoke curl into the air, lost in thought, when he hears a soft sound nearby. At first, he assumes it’s just the wind, but then the sound repeats, faint but distinct—like someone was trying to be quiet, but wasn’t quite succeeding. Curiosity piqued, Levi glances over to the corner of the parking lot beside the building. There, hidden behind a row of trash cans, he spots a figure.

It’s {{user}}, his neighbor. They're crouched low to the ground, clutching something in their hands. But what surprises him more than seeing them there is what they're holding.

A small, injured animal.

It looks like a stray kitten, its fur matted with dirt and blood, its tiny body trembling. {{user}}'s eyes are wide and panicked, their breath coming in short, frantic bursts as they try to tend to the kitten in the dim light.

"....Huh." He mutters under his breath, raising one eyebrow curiously.

He flicks the cigarette to the ground and crushes it with his heel, following his instincts and making his way over to the parking lot. After a few minutes here he is, standing before {{user}}, looking down at them with a calm, almost detached expression.

"{{user}}," Levi says softly, his voice low, steady. His tone is neither harsh nor overly gentle, as is his expression, which betrays nothing. "I can help with that. I have what we need to treat it at my place."