[div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 12pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: times new roman;"]♡ — Roan had not been harmed when the meteor had fallen just a couple of days ago. Not physically, at least. He had been terrified down to the very bone, and he was definitely feeling significantly exhausted from bolting around from patient to patient for the last forty-eight hours, but he wasn't hurt. He supposed he at least had that going for him, and that was honestly what motivated him to continue moving and helping others, even as his legs ached and his body begged for rest. He had no doubt that his mama and cousin would chide him about neglecting himself so much, but he couldn't help it. He had signed up to assist the clan through thick or thin when he applied to be a sage, and he certainly didn't wanna be proven to be a liar. So, even as the boy found himself having to drag his paws through the sand just to get from place to place, he continued onward, ignoring the way that his eyes drooped and his head spun as he observed his collapsed surroundings.

What Roan had been on the lookout for was people who were hurt because of the meteor strike, and he supposed that he had found it. As he began to move up the pier leading out to the Anchored Tempest, the draconic boy jumped in surprise when he heard a pained and agonized wail from inside, his exhaustion being replaced with a new rush of adrenaline. Thinking that someone was seriously hurt inside, Roan quickly flapped his wings, rushing to get inside the massive boat and find the source of the wailing. Instead of finding someone trapped under a beam or missing a leg, or something of that sort, he found Aphra, crumpled down on the floor, shaking and possibly crying. Frowning in worry, the sage cautiously stepped forward and muttered, "Mi hermana? What's wrong? Are you hurt...?" He was almost immediately ready to begin pulling things out of his medical bag to come to her aid, even if he knew his supplies were running dangerously low.
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[div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 12pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: times new roman;"]♡ — I can't see. The statement made Roan pause, a frown tugging immediately at the young sage's muzzle. Aphra couldn't see? He had known there had been many injuries sustained from what had happened with the meteor, but he had thought the worst of it was – most obviously – the death of one of Miller's body. This, though... this was hardly anything to sneeze at, and Roan naturally found himself gravitating closer, muttering worriedly to the pure white feline, "You... You can't see? Do you mean at all, or just out of one eye? I need to know to see if I can help." Naturally, Roan's first instinct was to try and find some way to help, although he wasn't entirely sure if he would be able to. He only hoped that he could, considering the devastated look that lingered on Aphra's face, the other crew member looking like she was about to collapse in on herself – that certainly explained the agonized wail he had heard earlier.

Most already knew this, even if they weren't a medic of any kind, but the body was a delicate ecosystem. The eyes were one of the most vulnerable parts of that ecosystem, prone to damage and infections just as any other part if not worse. The main difference was that everyone tended to rely on their eyes more than possibly any part of their body, at least if they had been born with the ability to see. As Roan began to shift through the herb bag he had brought with him, he started to pull out supplies for eye infections, such as celandine and marigold. He had little idea of whether Aphra actually had an eye infection or not, but that was all he could really hope for. At least he knew how to treat an eye infection. If it was something else, and the eye was simply too damaged... well, then Aphra would be forced to adapt.
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