Through the Mail Slot

Sparkle wasn't usually the sort to play the Good Samaritan card or anything. Hell, he'd be the first person out there to vehemently deny that he ever did. But he'd gotten a note with his radio stuff today that had worried him more than a little, about a little kid who was sleeping in the freaking warehouses, and if he was going to be getting notes about this, with squirrels expecting to tell the population of the island that some little kid was totally sleeping alone in a place that was easy to break into, he couldn't just ignore that.

Fucking island.

So he'd taken it upon himself to check out the situation, his backpack slung over his shoulder with a spare winter coat in it that he'd grabbed from the kids section at Demon Marcus, and a bag of takeout from Moobyland crammed in there along with. And, stuffed down the front of his shirt and peering out from under his shirt collar, his secret weapon, Velcro. Because kids liked kitties, right?

It hadn't taken him long at all to find little footprints in the snow, or where the boards had been kind of jimmied free. Took him even less time to pry a couple more free and set the cat loose inside, first.

Because kitty.

[For one!]