idle minds [c]

Nightdancer had been curious about the feral cats that had sheltered with their Clan, and even more so about the kits that had remained as Clanmates. Though she'd been too sad and bitter to express it well, and more recently occupied with hiding her admittedly mild--but frustratingly persistent--illness. She had spoken briefly with them, and knew them by name as she did all her Clanmates, but she couldn't say she knew any of them exceptionally well.

She hummed, considering his words, and allowed her whiskers to twitch just slightly. "Marrow. I suppose a little more strength is never a bad thing."

Her own eating habits involved far less crunching than Vinecrawler's did, cleaning meat from the bones of her squirrel and piling them at her side once they were spotless.

"Hmm. I suppose you'd need to crunch them open."

The thing that she was most curious about was the language they spoke with one another, but she didn't want to press. Were he an enemy, she might have; she could see herself interrogating that particularly aggravating SkyClanner--but Vinecrawler was a Clanmate, if an odd one. If he provided an opening, she would take it.

In the meantime, she was still quite curious about him and his kin.

Her head tilted just slightly, more the ghost of movement than the real thing, as he seemed to zero in on her curiosity immediately. "The... Cartilage?" she asked, asking for confirmation more than anything. Well, if he wasn't sure the word for it, he might not know. But this was her chance.

"I apologize if this is a rude question to ask, but... That other language you speak to one another... It seems like an asset. Useful for strategy, among other things. Communication that can't be understood by those unfamiliar. Is that why you use it? Or is it just because it's familiar to you?"

While waiting for an answer, or an admonition, she took his advice; the crunch of the bone snapping in half was rather satisfying on its own, even as she attempted to free the promised marrow from its prison.

She was relieved that he wasn't offended at her question, instead openly and excitedly sharing memories of his kin. She understood clinging to the memories of lost loved ones: sometimes, out for a walk, she would sit in patches of flowers or herbs she half-recognized; just thinking of her sisters.

She inclined her head slightly, a sign of acknowledgement. "I understand."

She kept searching for the marrow of the bones, curiously dragging her tongue over the opened center. If she could figure out how to snap one perfectly in half, the other way, that would be perfect; but this was passable.

He spoke, nodding to her, and she realized what he was offering--a chance to speak it. Would he teach her?

Well. Not if she didn't try, surely.

"D-delicious, isn't it...?"

She did her best to mimic him, though words and tone were both unsure.

Nightdancer repeated the words back, picking up words and phrases until she had amassed an incredibly simple vocabulary, and nodded as he seemed to suggest continuing their lessons. "That would be good, friend," she said slowly, keeping the words simple to combat her uncertainty.

Then, switching back to her own native tongue she added, "At the very least, I would certainly enjoy it."

"Forest speech."
“Feral speech."