private The Scientific Method (Flowerfoot)

[Martenmask]

The scents of the pair of Twolegs wafted to Martenmask's nose from where he was crouched, hidden behind a clump of shrubbery. His blue eyes tracked the towering, hairless creatures with interest as they walked down the Twoleg path, chatting animatedly with one another. Their tangy, oily scent and loud, strange calls were disruptive, intruding onto the quiet of the leaf-bare wood, but it almost certainly was less alarming to Martenmask and his companion than it would've been to the average ThunderClan warrior. Once, their whole lives had revolved around these strange animals, had been controlled by their inexplicable whims. Though he missed the occasional luxury of kittypet life - the fireplace, perhaps, or a Twoleg's paw expertly scratching behind his ear - he could say with confidence that he was happier now than he had ever been. The world was so much grander than anything he could experience within the confines of a house, or even a garden, and he felt again a ripple of gratitude that Emberstar had welcomed him into her Clan. Besides, this life was a far more honorable one - he actually stood for something, now, and had things to care about other than how he'd spend yet another lazy day.

Martenmask glanced over at Flowerfoot, just a tail-length away, and grinned. "They're so funny. They make so much noise as they walk." he said in an undertone, peering between the winter-stiffened leaves to observe the humans again. "Did yours like to go outside? Mine were always popping in and out of the den. I remember trying to sniff their paws, trying to learn what all the different scents they carried were." To think he had ever lived such a confined life!

@FLOWERFOOT​

 

[FLOWERFOOT]

Whilst the presence of Twolegs would need to be reported, Flowerfoot was content to watch them for now, a grin upon his maw as he reminisced of days long gone. He didn't think he missed life in the Twolegplace, its ups and downs would never compare to the freedom of the forest, but when he stared at naked paws and scratchy pelts, he felt a pang of something. Not quite grief, not quite happiness, perhaps an acknowledgment of origins that were not so keenly accepted outside of his circle of friends. The tortie point looked towards Martenmas as he spoke, taking a few seconds to find the tomcat amidst the leafbare foliage. A cheeky laugh escaped him, quiet enough to sound like a cough. "It's funny, I've heard the same thing!" StarClan, he had not been very popular in his first moon - the amount of prey scared off by thunderous paw steps must've been enough to feed the clan dozens of times over. The issue was not as prevalent as it once was, nowadays, Flowerfoot's largest problem was forgetting that he was not alone in the territory - others could be hunting prey nearby while he ran to camp like the LeopardClan of old.

A question posed caused him to tilt his head. "I mean, sorta? One lived in a monster, the other left from sunrise to sunset doing..." He paused, trying to think of the right word. "Hunting, I guess. She always came back with white bundle and inside was the smelliest food I've ever smelt! Worse than mouse bile!" Not that mouse-bile was food, but between his explanation and the wrinkle of offended nostrils, Flowerfloot hoped he'd gotten his point across. He'd only tried it once and he'd gagged enough to be thrown outside by his owners until he stopped. He hadn't thought to smell where they had gone, he had been too busy seeking attention to do any meaningful investigation - his male owner had given the best scritches, right on top of the head and one claw just behind the ear. "Did yours ever hunt for you? Mine brought a fish home once but... I didn't see any teeth marks on it, I think she lied about catching it herself." Not that his Twoleg had ever told him she'd hunted, Flowerfoot just presumed.
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[Martenmask]

The Ragdoll snickered under his breath at Flowerfoot's remark. It was true - learning how to navigate through the forest quietly had been a challenge, especially for him, what with his big paws and abundance of fur. Even now, his unsuccessful hunts were largely all attributable to the crunching of a leaf or the soft thunder of a pawstep, and he didn't think he'd be anyone's first choice for a stealth mission. Still, though, the difference was night-and-day: Martin the kittypet and Martenmask the warrior traversed ThunderClan's forest as differently as a...well, as a Twoleg and a cat, for instance. "I remember those days. We've come a long way." the chocolate-and-white tom mewed with satisfaction, turning his attention from the human pair and onto his friend. For a moment, he allowed pride to simmer in his chest - they had accomplished much, hadn't they? Certainly more than he ever thought he would, more than he ever could've as a kittypet.

Martenmask's face wrinkled as Flowerfoot mentioned the foul-smelling food in the white pouches, and he nodded sorrowfully in agreement. "I know just what you mean. Mine liked to bring in these big, crinkly bundles of..." it had to have been food, though it wasn't like any food he had ever eaten. "Stuff. But as soon as they brought it all home, they'd hide it in the nooks and crannies of the den. Not sure why they did that, since they always had to go and look for it later. Maybe...maybe they missed hunting so much, they felt like they wanted to do it at home, too?" That seemed completely unreasonable, but Twolegs were insensible creatures, after all. "Mine only ever gave me the meat-slop or the pebbles. But the fish...mm...maybe...or maybe she killed it with her paws. I remember seeing my Twolegs break logs and stone with their paws, and it hardly left a mark." he mused, ducking lower as one of the Twolegs swung its ponderous head in their direction.

It seemed almost as if they were looking for something. "What d'you think they're doing?"​