"Enjoying the last few rays that can do anything worth while?" There was a sort blurred merger in her words between cynical sarcasm and casual empathy that struck an odd cord to Elleth's tone, and she strutted up beside the she cat with a confidence that, to be blunt, was almost unacceptable of the recently made hunter. Her wounds from initiation had not even fully scabbed over yet, and still she strutted over to Celeste's side with all the moxie of a cat who seemed to believe they now owned the entire league.

She gave a small shrug. "You're probably right, but I kind of fancy the shade and cold. Something kind of homely about it." She said in a sort of tone that made it seem as if what she said should have made sense, though in truth it was all rather vague and cryptic. "Anyways," She said, shifting her position to rest herself on her other side, trying not to flare up any wounds with the pressure of laying on them, "It's not like I don't get it. I suppose life is all around better when there's a myriad of warmth and prey isn't being killed off by ice faster than we can snatch em'. I just have a sort of twisted love affair with the cold." She said, giving a half laugh at her own comment.

"It is ironic, I suppose. But honestly it probably means you've kept at least more of your senses than most cats here. I mean, the logical response to the question, 'do I want to be a creepy loner in the shade or do I want to stay warm?' should probably be the choice that doesn't leave you freezing cold." She said with a half laugh. Truth be told, she felt she had kept her senses pretty well too, despite her preference of the dark and the cold. Then again, would someone who was mad even realize they were? Madness sort of implied someone was too far gone to realize their own madness.

"Well, when you set a really low bar for moral expectation and mental health the problem is the people who fall underneath it tend to be the worst of the worst." Insanity wasn't the worst, in her opinion. She thought those who belonged in the loony bin could actually be pretty entertaining, and some of her best pals were kind of off their rocker. She was probably kind of crazy too. Cold blooded killers were the cats who really tended to push her buttons, however. Not that she couldn't find some very endearing, but especially self-serving narcissists with little other to their character than the obsession with making blood come pouring out of every crevasse they could cut into their victim's body. They were boring, first off, and second off, difficult to get along with for more than a second. She enjoyed more complex people, even if it was just for her own selfish reasons.