Thieves were often known for their overwhelming greed, and Michael was no exception to that rule. He loved collecting anything that he was able to get his paws on, and he particularly enjoyed the shinier things in life, like gold, and various different kinds of jewels. It was the reason why he was always adorned in some kind of jewelry while he walked around, whether it just be his wedding ring and his necklace, or a great deal more. However, Michael had never particularly had any interest in collecting things with no value. He realized that things like seashells and little trinkets had some kind of value to those that collected them, but he preferred the things with tangible value. Things that felt good to steal, and slip his paws carefully over before he snatched it from some unsuspecting shitlord. Of course, he didn't do that as often as of late, but he still hadn't completely abandoned his thieving past, as many NPCs from groups like The Pitt could attest to.

However, the dealer could never remember a time where he had cried over not being able to have something. He had never really been allowed to cry when he had been a child, and that had sort of just extended to his adulthood, so he usually expressed his frustrations through anger, or drinking. Although much less of the latter, as of late. Nonetheless, it was easy to see how Michael might have been ill-prepared to deal with the situation when he came upon Torsten, crying over a turtle shell. Initially, the bobcat had hesitated in getting closer, a faint frown pulling at his muzzle. Eventually, however, he decided it would be worse to just walk away, so he took a few steps closer, questioning, "Torsten...? Hey... what's eating at you? Is it the shell...?" He wasn't sure he could've been any more awkward if he tried, but he was still getting used to stuff like this. He could only pray that Roxie or Diya would arrive soon, to help in comforting their little one.