[ Can't go unnoticed, that pause almost like a misstep. And maybe there's the briefest flicker of tension across his own form, bracing for a split second before its over, back on the rails again.

He murmurs to himself wryly as he wraps the first makeshift bandage, then the next: ]

Every cat by now from Flatbush to the Manhattan bridge must be his great-great-great-great grandsomething...

[ He lets out a huff, shaking his head. ]

You know, I still got the scar from when he bit me?

[ The only time he got close enough to Brutus to get bit, seeing as how he was allergic and the cat hated anyone, even the older girls half the time.

Even the serum was no match for a homicidal ball made of fur and compressed rage.

(he's not angling here, not on purpose) ]