It was quite interesting to see that the Ascendants had their own form of medics, or clerics, here. Ever since the moment Roy managed to show up here, he wondered how he would get himself healed if he got sick or seriously wounded. Amestris had been improving with medicine, brilliant minds came up with surgery for automail prosthetics, and only the most brave could endure it. There was even medicinal alchemy, he didn't look much into that, considering flame alchemy was his speciality. But as he padded over, he had a feeling this way of medicine was far different from what he was used to. Herbs, they were using herbs- he knew herbs were used in old medicine, but they hadn't been used as much in modern Amestris, at least from his knowledge. The only thing he knew how to do was cauterize a wound, which he had done to himself in the past. For now that didn't seem to be very important, and he didn't think he has to be a cleric if one day someone comes stumbling in, bleeding to death, when he could so easily burn the flesh close with flame alchemy.

"I'll just watch," Roy seconded Bastillepaw, as the melanistic bobcat made his way over, shortly after the bengal. He sat himself down on the ground, blue eyes merely glancing at the younger tom for a moment. It seems like they agree in another matter, this time being cleric tryouts. It seems like Bastillepaw doesn't have much interest to be a cleric, much like Roy. While the two certainly seem to dislike each other, Roy can see himself in the younger tom.