The rain was pretty heavy on this particular night, weighing down his wings. Hawks pushed through it though, doing his damn best to finish out his patrol. He can feel the cold biting through his hero costume, soaking him down to the bone. Why'd it have to be so damn cold tonight? More importantly, why did the HPSC think it appropriate to still send him out on patrol with the weather being so shitty?

He touches down on a nearby rooftop that overlooks the city. He perches, stretching his wings for a moment and shaking them out in an attempt to rid his feathers of the water weighing him down. That's when he hears it. It's faint, especially since the rain is so loud, but he can just barely hear tiny sniffles and hiccups coming from the alleyway below.

He acts quickly, his wings carrying him down to the ground below. He walks carefully through the alley, ready for anything. What he was not ready for, however, was to see a small child that couldn't be older than three or four huddled into a ball. The kid was absolutely filthy, covered from head to toe in grime. The poor thing was quite literally wearing rags that clung close to their body.

He approaches slowly, being careful not to startle the kid as he crouches in front of them. He grimaces when he notices that the kid is sat in a puddle of icy water, but what captures his attention is how tiny they are. "Hey kid..are you okay?" He murmurs softly, a hand hesitantly extended to them.

His heart sinks when they look up at him, dead eyes staring up at him. "What are you doing out here alone..?" His voice is barely above a choked whisper, his wings shuddering but not from the cold.