Driftpaw graciously groomed her pelt beside me while I lapped my tongue over my paw, shifting my dark scarlet pelt ever so slightly. "Soooo," I grin, as my paws gently touch the sandy base of the apprentice den, "I saw you with Hailpaw the other day? Have you finally found yourself a cat?" "No," she snarls, "All Hailpaw cares about is that dumb fish in the river. Has no good sense of she-cats and it doesn't look like he has groomed his pelt in a while either. A total no-go." "Too nice," she decided, "and energetic. He's not really that cool." I shrugged, "Your loss, Driftpaw," I claimed.