"His name is Noctis," Mason muttered, putting the new rat in the cage with the others. "It's the last time, all right? And I got this much. For rent, and pet stuff."

He tossed a small wad of cash onto the couch, his expression sheepish. He'd pawned off yet another hundred bucks' worth of stuff from his late father's old home. The guy at the thrift shop didn't ask questions, and paid well. Or, at least, Mason figured he did. Honestly, he couldn't be sure. But it was fine. There was still plenty of stuff left, and it wasn't like his brother was gonna need any of it, what with all the inheritance.

Mason scratched at the tattoo on his neck awkwardly. The tattooist had looked at him funny for wanting ink done of rats, pigeons, and other urban "pests," but he didn't care. Those animals understood him better than any person ever had.

Well, any except maybe this one.

After his falling out with his twin, Mason had lived in the streets for a while, until this friend practically dragged him home. He slept on the couch, and he wasn't around much, but...it was still home. Where he went on rainy days. Where he went to for help with all the stray animals he'd pick up. Where he could get a warm meal and a cuddle.

"Can we spoon?" he asked, biting his lip. Mason didn't like asking, didn't like being vulnerable, but his last argument with Felix was still playing over and over in his mind. On days he needed to clear his head, he usually went to the old mansion, but today he just...couldn't be alone. He needed warmth. Human warmth. "I can... I can turn into my cat form, if it's easier."

Normally, that was his preferred form. Mason was far more at ease wandering the rooftops and alleys, communing with the unwanted animals of the city, than he was among people. But today, right now, he wanted to feel a human heartbeat. He wanted to feel like he wasn't alone. Like maybe he wasn't just the family disappointment. Like someone gave a damn.

"Unless you're busy, I guess. I mean, it's fine. It was just an idea anyway."