Yeah, that was the way of it with Maya and Rilke -- Rilke never liked Maya once Maya was thrust upon her as a kitten, and then Maya turned out to be the top cat, which was kind of sad. Rilke doughtily defended her tiny bits of space -- the top of my desk, the bathroom -- and was not on top anywhere else. God knows what will happen with this little orange scrap. She plays by herself now, and wants to play with me (though I have to force myself to remember I cannot use my hand as a toy) and various bits of feathered string, but she hasn't advanced beyond the doorway of my bedroom since Maya's hissing foray, a few days ago.