On the other hand, rather than being concerned over the displeased locals and their relationship with the cats, Cornelia has been watching them to see how they navigated around the floofs. Moving through the city has thus become something akin to passing through a thick garden except that sometimes parts of it meow and groom themselves and climb up former stormtroopers and otherwise behave in farily harmless ways.

So when he shows her the kitter's back, she frowns.

"Is it ink?"