Valentine's day for Michael had been, unlike Roxie's, very unpleasant. It had been made somewhat better by the presence of Caustic, who had provided him with company while he wallowed in self pity and missed Trevor, but that still hadn't made it a great day. Michael had still drank himself silly until he woke up the next day with a roaring headache and a dry throat, the world spinning unpleasantly as he gripped onto the last shards of broken nightmares he had during the night. Most of which involved his father, since he, like Roxie, had a shitty relationship with his parent. A shitty relationship that had involved alcoholism and abuse and abandonment... a horrible cocktail to mix, if you asked Michael. Needless to say, after that disaster of a Valentine's day, he felt the need to get away from the Pitt. He wanted to go out and do something. Something that wouldn't make him feel like garbage when he got back home. Most of the time, that involved causing trouble for others, a simple fact that Michael had been in denial of for quite some time now. Originally he had caused trouble for Tanglewood, but this time he took off in a different direction, heading for the salty sea air of the ocean and finding himself in the thick of the loner lands before long.

He wasn't quite at the Typhoon yet – he knew since he couldn't smell the heavy scent of a border line or anything – but he was close enough, and he had come upon somebody who certainly smelled like they could've been from the seafaring group. A large female, with horns and wings, and a stomach that was slightly swelled with something that definitely wasn't just extra weight. Pregnant. Jesus, there was no way he was going to mess with a pregnant lady. He was about to turn and go when the flash of something in the corner of his vision caught his eye, and he found himself following the light back to the source – jewelry. Pretty, shiny jewelry, in Roxie's ears and on her form. It reminded him of the gold and silver that adorned his own body, and he found himself staring in fascination, blue eyes wide – although really only one of them could process the sight before him. He didn't even realize he was moving forward until a twig snapped beneath the weight of his paw, and Roxie was spinning around, her body tense and her eyes staring straight at him. She looked like she was ready to kill, and Michael couldn't say he blamed her. After all, she was a pregnant lady with a bunch of bling all the way out here by herself. If Michael was just enough of a scumbag, he would've seen an opportunity in this. However, he wasn't.

Michael hesitated for a long moment before he took another step forward, lowering his body slightly to show that he wasn't a threat. His stance was already casual and off balance, hardly fit for an attack, but he wanted it to be abundantly clear that he wasn't planning on attacking her. Once he was near enough to be heard, he cleared his throat and spoke, voice still hoarse from the previous night's events, "Hi, uh, hey. I'm not... I'm not gonna hurt you. Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to make you think I was sneaking up on you. I'm, uh, I'm Michael De Santa. I just... uh..." He hesitated slightly, seemingly trying to think of how to put this. He was mostly just coming up with a blank. Eventually he continued, shrugging his slim shoulders, "Well, honestly I was just looking at your jewelry. It's very pretty and I've got a bit of an eye for it myself, as I'm sure you can see. Kinda... zoned out." He gestured vaguely at himself, showing off the earrings on his ears and the golden necklace sitting heavily around his neck. It was a shitty excuse, but it was actually the truth, dumb as it sounded. The scent of the Pitt on his pelt was thankfully muddled, buried beneath the many scents of the loner lands and dulled thanks to the fact that Michael had hardly been there long.