Michael was a pretty big fan of the environment that The Typhoon offered. The fugitive had spent many a day moving from place to place, forced to adapt quickly as he moved between space to space with new, unpleasant conditions. Usually he had been living beneath a thick canopy of trees, the sun blotted out as he and Trevor set up dirty, temporary camps, scrapped together from anything they managed to find. By comparison, the Typhoon was a paradise, with the sun in the sky and the sand beneath his paw pads. He wasn't able to truly appreciate sunbathing yet, thanks to the fact that most of his body was still covered in a mummy's share of bandages, but he still enjoyed the heat constantly soaking into his pelt, and the breeze that he could feel when he leaned out on his porch. He didn't care very much for the tangy saltwater smell that clung to everything thanks to living right next to the sea, but usually the thick smell of gasoline that followed Trevor around like a cloud blocked that out, so he didn't have to worry about it too much.

As such, Michael could often be found near the beach, occasionally just going on walks when he felt the motivation to do so. As of late he had been spending more and more time inside, distracted by Trevor or his new little family of rats he had to take care of, but he still made time for the occasional constitutional, figuring it was good for his aching muscles to get some time not in a curled up position. The bobcat had been on one of these walks when he spotted Sam, the female looking overwhelmingly frustrated with something. He didn't know much about Sam, besides the fact that she was from Tanglewood, had been injured when she arrived, and meant a great deal to Goldie, but he still found a frown pulling at his muzzle, slightly concerned. Had she been hurt again? As if on cue, Sam toppled over right after his mental question, and Michael felt a startled gasp leave him, his paws beginning to carry him towards her. He only got halfway there, however, before she let out a screech, her body shifting almost violently before his very eyes. The con man found himself frozen for a moment, just staring at the slightly disturbing scene before him. It was only when Sam began to flail around awkwardly, seemingly stunned by the new change, that Michael was finally able to force himself forward again. His steps were almost robotic, jerky and reluctant as he grew close, meowing softly, "Erm... are you alright? That looked... really fuckin' unpleasant, honestly. Is that like... a regular thing?"