“I think I would” he teased, playfulness in his tone. “Wouldn’t need a group for that” his tail moved, brushing next to moths before loosely wrapping around him.
He hesitated, unsure of himself or what he was saying. He probably sounded like a creep or weirdo to this poor guy.

“Track you down, bring you back” he moved closer, subtly scooting next to him. He was regretting every movement.

“But, that’d mean there’s a reason for you to run, and I don’t think there is” he purred softly. His head bending to groom the fur behind his ear. His movements were slow, carefully thought out and gentle. Mindful of the smaller Tom’s comfort. If he wanted to run, he could. It was obvious flint wouldn’t, couldn’t, give chase.

It was nice, stranger or not. It was another cat after so long and he craved that. The warmth of another cats fur, that affection he couldn’t get from family. Stranger or not, he wanted to pretend and soak in the moment.