If there was one way to quickly get on Michael's good side, it was through his stomach. It was no secret that the bobcat was an enormous fan of sweets, but his love of food went beyond just that. After spending so many months of his childhood starving and scavenging for scraps, he had chosen to always take advantage whenever food was offered – or not offered – and that hadn't changed with his arrival to The Typhoon. If anything, the only thing that had changed was how exactly the food was delivered to him. Back when he and Trevor had been traveling loners, he had become used to raw meals with the occasional sweet as a treat. Around the Typhoon, though? It seemed as though a disproportionate amount of the crew members around here could cook, and could cook well, too. The fugitive certainly wasn't about to start complaining, since he definitely enjoyed a nice cooked meal more than any piece of raw prey that he could get his dark paws on.

The bobcat ended up drawn out of his hut when the smell of cooked foot reached his nose, his jewelry faintly jingling as he descended down the little ramp and onto the sand. His aviators were blocking out the sun as usual, and he was able to identify Merida and her little picnic setup as a dot on the beach without too much fuss. The thief swiftly found his way over to where she was, glancing the mutated caracal over with curiosity. She smelled strongly of the Typhoon, but he wasn't sure he had ever seen her before, even after a while of being here. Had he just not been paying attention? Shrugging it off, the male spoke softly after clearing his throat, a toothy grin upon his muzzle, "Hey there. I'm Michael, Michael De Santa. I don't believe we've met before... you've got a real nice setup here. Were you intendin' on sharing with everyone?" He really hoped that she said yes – he also really hoped his excitement wasn't written in his body language, knowing full well his little nubbin of a tail had a habit of twitching and wagging wildly when he was excited.

The bobcat felt a grin break out over his muzzle as he was allowed permission to indulge, immediately gravitating towards the food. However, he didn't want to be seen as a pig, especially by the nice new lady who was offering the food, so he took it slow, only grabbing a few things with the tongs – a little bit clumsily, honestly. Once he had gotten the food onto his plate, he turned his attention back to Merida, short tail twitching behind him as he spoke, "It's nice to meet you too, Merida. You say you've been here for a while, huh? I'm surprised I haven't seen you around yet... although I've only been here about a month. Maybe two, I'm not sure. I've never been good with time." Back when he and Trev had been on the road, days and weeks had blended together, instead just becoming vague periods in between heists. Nowadays he didn't have heists to worry about – not big ones, anyways – but things still had a tendency to blur together. The Typhoon was an exciting place, and he had a tendency to recall events more than he did individual days. Things like the dire wolf attack, first meeting Roxie, and his first kiss with Trevor... he remember all of those crystal clear, but if you asked him to put a timeline to them? He'd be hard pressed to comply.