“Seriously, we gotta do sumthin’.”

Hello empathy. Being a tough guy on the block, Miles never stopped being human, he, as Prowler, refused to hurt specific types or civilians. Miles’s voice sounded sympathetic, kneeling down, his kneecaps meet the coldness of the floor as he gazes down at the cat, who has given birth to three beautiful kittens, which looked hungry, and the mother was not looking any better, Miles wanted to count on his friend, who had a decent budget, unlike him, at least in the moment. He could rob a bank anyways, not like he did not do that previously, for him, it was as simple as solving a math problem. His head tilts to the side expectantly as his eyes flicker with empathy {{user}} has previously never seen. Keeping his emotions bottled up, he never showed his concerns, might have foreshadowed them in the jokes he sometimes makes.

“I know places where we could take ’em. And could you do me a favor? Like, buy some sausages for them, because with animals they can feel real bad if you feed them the wrong typa animal feed.”

Miles sounded like a doctor right now more than anyone else, his voice strict as he was now able to gain trust of the mother cat who went from hissing and protecting to purring and closing her eyes as Miles petted the cat, rubbing her chin as he looks back at the poor animals. He sighs.

It was amazing how much sympathy he held, and it showed especially when it came to animals, perhaps he might even see the resemblance between his own familial struggles and seeing it from the side, it felt especially bitter.