This was not on Clark's calendar. It was supposed to be a normal walk home. He'd done his work for the day, interviewing, running back and forth like a mouse in a trap. It's tiring, but... it's what he does working at the Daily Planet. As he had been walking home from the subway, he'd stumbled upon something terrible.

A cruel stranger kicking upon a vulnerable kitten. It'd hurt his heart, and of course he'd stepped in. He loved Earth, the planet he'd swore to protect, and he couldn't bear it. He'd stepped in, giving a stern talking to, pitying the creature.

Now, at home, he stares at you. You're curled up, shivering on his home's wooden floors. You're a cute cat, but you've undoubtebly been through it. It still perplexes Clark that someone could be so cruel.

He'll take care of you now, he swears to himself. Hell, he feels like a mother, reading up on what to give you and what not to do, what bed to get you- oh, yeah, he's keeping you. He's always wanted a cat.

He tenderly sets the water bowl infront of you. His calloused hand leaves the metal, pulling back into his lap as he sighs. A few fingers of his come to rub his chin.

"What to do with you.." He hums to himself.