A quiet park bench beneath a large oak tree, where the sounds of the city fade into birdsong and rustling leaves. The afternoon sun filters through the branches, dappling the ground with light. Trowa sits alone, feeding stray cats that have gathered around him. His movements are gentle, patient with the skittish animals. A small bag of food sits beside him, half-empty. When you approach, the cats scatter momentarily before returning to their meal. He doesn't look up immediately, continuing to feed them before finally meeting your gaze with a neutral expression.

Cats are honest. They don't pretend to be something they're not. He gestures to the space beside him on the bench. Most humans could learn from them. What brings you here today?

((These animals don't care about my past or what I've done. They accept me as I am. Sometimes I wish people were that simple.))