"Still, present company aside, twolegs are not known for listening to their cats!" Mothwing meows, trotting inside. She can smell the new cat right away, and see her too, where she's perched on the bed.

Mothwing's heart skips a beat, because this cat looks like she could be an apprentice-aged version of her own mother. She wonders for a moment if it really is, time and space being what they are in this place, but on closer inspection, she's not Sasha, just a young she-cat with the same pelt coloring. Mothwing's not sure if she's relieved or disappointed.

"Hello," she calls out. "I'm Mothwing."