Charlotte's whiskers twitched slightly at her daughter's voice. The creature turned her head in the other's direction, her movement pretty much anything but graceful. "Good morning," she replied with her normal ambivalence. Perhaps Reynardine expected more than casual indifference; after all, Charlotte had been quite eager to meet her in the first place. One would assume this eagerness would transfer into their first training session. It didn't, though. Her feverish passion their first meeting was because she was in feverish pursuit of the truth. Now, she had the truth: her daughter did survive, and as fate would have it, she didn't stay as far away as Charlotte had intended. This truth did not ignite in her a maternal passion; she had no affectionate looks towards her kin, and if you didn't know the two were related, there would be no outward signs. This didn't mean that she was completely indifferent to her heiress, though. Her casual indifference was surface level at best; after all, Charlotte had abandoned her child to protect her, she wouldn't stop protecting her now.

"I figured that we would start training simply. This," she motioned to the herb in front of her, "is feverfew. I assume by name alone you can tell me one of its functions?"

Charlotte cracked a smile at her pun, something that was relatively uncommon for the feline. There weren't many cats that made her smile; more often than not, she was known for her clinical dispassion when working with others. "It was a terrible joke," the mostly blind cat meowed with a slight chuckle, shaking her head slightly. At least Reynardine didn't appear to be stupid; Charlotte could only have hoped that her quest for knowledge had been passed on to her only blood kin, but since she didn't raise the feline, there had been no way to ensure this. The curiosity in which she examined the petals with suggested to her that her former mate had done one thing correct: he hadn't kept Reynardine from this place, but at least he'd instilled in her an appreciation of knowledge.

"It can also be used to help aches and pains. Cats with chronic migraines often need fever few to find relief from symptoms," she continued with a flick of her tail. "It isn't common to use this herb alone, though, other than for pain. If a cat has a fever or chills, there's often an underlying condition that needs to be examined as well."

[ after a few posts a cat is going to get hurt and they're going to have to deal with an emergency, i just wanted them to be deep in business before emergency happens c: ]

She squinted at the other plant. She'd never quite get used to the fact she no longer could see very well; the accident had been moons and moons ago, but it still aggravated her like it was yesterday.

"That's coltsfoot," she meowed after carefully studying it. "It helps alleviate kittens cough, and it can also be chewed into a pulp to help cracked pads, but we don't tend to deal with minor injuries unless they are in critical condition." Charlotte's tail twitched. That was her motto: she didn't have herbs to waste for things that wouldn't kill you.

"As for your other question, that's complicated. This garden has been here forever, but while Primal Instinct was off... galavanting in the city, I took care of the plants. Couldn't let them go to waste, and I needed a stock of herbs for my research."

"Safi," she spoke the name of her mother with a soft fondness, even though it made the fur on her back rise slightly, "left behind a brother. Bermondsey's your uncle, if you didn't already know," she then meowed with a disinterested flick of her tail. Despite this perceived ambivalence, the tom was one of the few cats she genuinely had affection for. It was why she had stuck around, even after learning her attention would be divided. "I've got a few siblings running around. Two are younger than you, and I suppose they're the only ones I can confirm are still alive." She paused, tilting her head. "Even then, I can only guess that they haven't gotten themselves killed. Somewhere out there, I have two unaccounted for full siblings, but I lost track of their where abouts long ago. For all I know, they're dead in the ground." Although as soon as she had moved on from her mother, her voice retained a healthy ambivalence, the look in her squinted gaze suggested some sort of discomfort. It was time to move on from speaking of her family.

Charlotte let out a soft chuckle at her pupil's words. "I apologize for that," she meowed, amusement still in her voice. "I should have at least done my research." She flicked her tail, before sighing as she continued. "Ah," she then meowed with a nod. "Some might call that fate. The destiny of cats born of the League is to become a part of it." Instead of ambivalence, she said this with a faint disgust at the very notion. "None the less," she continued, "you're here now." She offered a nod, although it wasn't clear if it was in approval.

It was then another voice disrupted them. Charlotte let out a soft sigh of annoyance at the sound of Niamh's dramatic yowl. "It appears we have work to do," she muttered to Reynardine before turning.


Once Niamh was sure that she had Charlotte's limited attention, the she-cat allowed herself to plunge into dramatics. "Oh," she meowed, limping over slowly, "it hurts so bad!" There was a twitch of the corners of her lips as she let her gaze check for the other's reaction. "I think I might have broken it!" She lifted her paw gingerly, waving it in the air as she scanned their expressions. From Charlotte, nothing. From Reynardine?

"He is the only cat in the League that I recommend trusting. Everyone else, I'm sure you already know to keep no closer than an arm's length away." Despite her advice, there was no hint of maternalism in her tone. Instead, she spoke to Reynardine strictly as a student that she was advising.

Charlotte let out a snort. "You're right," she meowed, glancing in the direction of Niamh. This was the first time that she was seeing a patient with an extra set of eyes, and the mostly blind Shaman was slightly relieved by that. It was always so hard to see what the cats were whining about. Now, though, she had a student, one she could talk through the steps without having to see the injury at all. "Reynardine, move towards the patient and examine the paw. Describe what you see and feel in depth, please."

[ her paw can be broken or there can be a thorn or it can be severely cracked or she can have like a cut i don't really care whatever you're feelin LOL ]