"Yes, in fact." He was confident, ready to meet her, quick on the draw. Almost too quick, like he had been asked this before. Or that he practiced this answer. It didn't matter. "I was ripped away from my mother shortly after birth. I hope you can find it in your heart to excuse my manners." It was a sly answer, followed by Funkbeat bowing his head a little in apology. It was also a half lie. He couldn't remember his parents at all. It seemed like he and his siblings raised themselves, which explained a lot.

How could he get word to the League about his intrusion without going in? Sure, he could sit on the border, but borders are just scent trails and not a very effective way to keep others out. And stalking out the border would most likely rile them up more. But this was no normal league cat. Invading for the sake of meeting someone like this was worth it, and the Greenhouse was a small bonus.

"No, that's fair. Every story I could come up with, I know you've heard." His tone was fluid and easy, like a calm stream. He held still, not attempting to move but also not backing down from his place a few tail lengths past the border, "and I have no desire to tread the same ground as others. They called me Funkbeat, one who seeks true happiness. I'm here for your Greenhouse."

that's pretty good for my track record

"I'm terribly sorry for my previous showing of manners and I'll leave if you ask. But it would mean everything to me if you could give me a second chance." He really wanted to go to the Greenhouse; talk to the ghosts, see how things grew there, stand at the top and yell something stupid like 'May You Find Happiness' and spit on the ground. He had no plan, but he could always wait. This was no ordinary League cat, and even he didn't want to get on her bad side.

Funk followed along at a good clip, always one to take a dare regardless if it was vocalized or not. Whether he was a genius or an idiot for following a League cat to a more remote and isolated part of their territory was up to the reader. Though he tended to disagree with most of them. Still, he was far too curious about this stoic she-cat and the overgrown greenhouse. He'd get out of here fine, less one of the ghosts possessed him. But if they did, maybe he could get the ghosts hooked on his medicine. A whole new market, one no one could interfere with. An ingenious plan, truly. Or he'd leave before that could happen.

"Is there a name I can call you?" He had said his own name after all, least he could ask was something else to call her besides 'white she-cat' and 'league cat' or something else.

I tell her about my mommy issues and she still wants me to call her Mother? Just what is this cat?

Funk couldn't combat her creativity. He always just stuck to the name his twolegs gave him, only flaring it up when needed. It had it's own appeal, a grosser sounding name that also felt like it marched to the beat of it's own drums. He followed along, not bothering to stop and smell the flowers like he normally would. Everything he saw was familiar even though he hadn't been this way before. Interesting. As they exited the treeline, Funk lifted his paws more. He always hated the feeling of fake grass on them. He opened his mouth to give some snarky answer and call her Mom, but quickly remembered earlier and shook his head.

"Yes Mother." Funk was no fool to walk into League territory to try and do anything other than satiate his own curiosity. Even if someone asked him to help them, he'd refuse. And if the Greenhouse had some secret, he wasn't aware of it yet. There simply weren't a lot of greenhouses, and he wanted to see if he could replicate one in nature, "I know little of the League and what's been going on recently, if anything has at all. And I have no allegiance to anyone but myself, so I'm no spy. I'm a scientist and a medical practitioner. Nothing less." Everything more.

He held back a laugh, but gosh. He wanted to howl like a maniac and spit in her face. Him? Join the League as a medicine cat? He hadn't heard such lunacy in his life. Not from the cats who got stuck on his medicine and spilled their guts and dreams, the cats who were already a little tweaked and talked and talked about whatever crossed their minds, the thinkers with outlandish and macabre ideas. Truly, the League held itself above the rest. If he hadn't stopped in his tracks already, he would have.

"What'cha got in this greenhouse, Mother? Must be makin' you a little loopy." Funk wasn't successful at hiding his laugh, "If you needed some medicine or poison or somethin' like that, sure. I could help you. If this were somewhere else, maybe. But the League? Your boys must come back everyday with some new injury. I feel bad for your old mcs, musta been worked to death. Sure, this greenhouse is nice." Taking a few steps forward towards the old door. He stared at it, glass partially broken, vines growing outwards and upwards, and who knows what else hidden down there, "This isn't quite worth my death, working or you killing me here. So give me something else to work with if you want a living medicine cat?"

Shaman. Mage. Warmongerer. All the same. Still, it looks like they were on the same page. He was happy but just the smallest bit disappointed. Probably more because he wanted to keep poking fun at her. Sure, screws were loose here and there, but it wasn't healthy to be so pent up. And now he seemed to be offered the position of gardener.

"Ah, so that's your game." He followed after her, tone mellowed down. The house was fascinating. Normally, plants grew best when in the sun. Whatever the sun gave them, it caused them to grow and that was all that mattered to Funk. But here, it was like a jungle and much darker and nicer than his others gardens, "Fanning the flames of war, huh? I'd ask who, but that's none of my business. So, in exchange for some plant knowledge, making some poisons and some upkeep here and there; I get access to the greenhouse. Do I have that correct?"

Cleaning up bloody messes must be a daily chore around here, lease that's how Funk always thought of it. He paced around the entrance, staying in sight of Mother and taking in the greenhouse. This was strange. The League must truly be in a pinch to enlist a loner's help. Or she truly wanted to go to war and would do whatever it took to prepare for it. Every word from her seemed considered but she also seemed to be holding something back, not that he could say what or really cared. He turned back towards her before replying.

"Yes, yes. Few questions though." His paw found a large shard of glass on the ground, his claw tracing it absentmindedly as he talked, "How long will you need my help? Am I to be confined in here or can I leave as long as I... say, immediately leave the territory and when I come back, I go straight to the Greenhouse? I can tell there's food, but is there a steady and clean supply of water to here?" He wasn't all that interested in exploring the rest or interacting with anyone. And if anyone did, he'd give 'em some catmint and a pat on the butt and send them on their way. The faint sound of mouse feet scratched at the back of his brain, but he kept his eyes on Mother, tracing along her ears.

"Yep, gotcha." His light green gaze finally returned to Mother. Normally, he'd of turn tail and not looked back. Far too independent and narcissistic for working with others, but this had it's benefits. Being on somewhat good terms with the League was always a good idea. Getting the greenhouse but still able to come and go as he pleased was nice. And he had no desire to go to the crypt or manor or whatever. He would not realize the irony of his statements for some moons.

For now, he shrugged,"Alright. You got a deal. I'll help you out." Not that he could really decline, trapped in the Greenhouse with the new Nemesis. Rolling his head to the side, "So, can't blame ya if you come out to see me every time we gotta talk, but do ya have someone who could play messenger?" Too unpredictable and impulsive, he tended to leave on a whim and only come back to the same place after a move. For ease on both of them, he'd probably have to tell someone. Cause if he had to wait for her to come out, he'd tear up the Greenhouse rather than caring for it.