Kitty approaches, entranced by the easy conversation. She doesn't get too close, just close enough to hear. Beck had taught her how not just to hear but to Listen, to catch the undertones and general meaning of something spoken or unspoken. Half-empathic, half-psychic. She's not proficient in the rodentia dialects at all, but she can get the gist of it.

She crouches down, Listening harder, keeping far away enough that the rats shouldn't consider her a threat and that she won't interrupt the conversation. The bells on her headband are enough of an indicator of her presence. No predator this, no silent and swift movement. Just a curious teenager.