He could reply to York being a smartass, or he could pay attention to the kitten in his hands and grin like an idiot when it started kneading his palm. No contest, really. "Oh my God," he repeated, still quietly overwhelmed.

It was a few moments before practicality kicked in. "Does she have food? Does she have her shots? Is she- no, she's too small to be spayed yet." Wait. Hang on. "Where did you get her?"