It was surprisingly uncommon for others to come to Roan with injuries. Or rather, it was uncommon for them to come to him, rather than him going to them. The sage seemed to have an uncanny ability to show up on the scene of an injury almost immediately, and it was something that he actually prided himself on. So, it was actually fairly rare for him to have someone at his door asking for assistance. In this case, the young sage had actually been standing outside of the temple, his wings folded against his back as he snorted through his herb bag. He had been working on Ament's wounds just a few moments ago, and hadn't yet had time to head back to his nearby treehouse home. Before he could finish his sorting, however, he was surprised by the sound of approaching voices. Ears twitching, Roan raised his head, only to see none other than his uncle, Michael, and some sort of newcomer walking up the path. The two of them seemed to be talking, with Michael chattering away. Eventually the bobcat stopped, gesturing towards Roan with a paw so that the other could see. Michael then waved at Roan, turned, and promptly walked away in the other direction.

Resisting the rather heavy urge to sigh at his uncle for not explaining the situation, Roan got up to his paws, grabbing his satchel in his jaws before he moved over to the newcomer, Devland. His eyes scanned over the other quickly, before eventually falling on the wound in Dev's shoulder. The sage winced as soon as he saw it, placing his satchel carefully down nearby. Sitting back on his haunches, the siamese began to talk softly as he pulled things from the satchel, including clean bandages, and various herbs, "Hello, I'm Roan, the sage around here. I'm assuming my uncle told you about me? I'm the healer for all of the Typhoon." Tail flicking behind him, the draconic feline then gestured a paw towards Devland's shoulder, questioning with a cock of his head, "I'm... also assuming that you're here to get that treated? Unless you have some other horrible wound that you're hiding... incredibly well." His mother's trademark snark was back in his voice, present because of the fact that he had already been tired from treating Ament. Hopefully Devland wouldn't be quite as hard to treat as a feral raptor.

Aren't you a bit young to be the healer? The question was a loaded one for Roan, who resisted the strong urge to recoil when it was asked of him. On one hand, he felt slightly insulted, since he knew that despite his young age, he was still an extremely talented medic. On the other hand, he agreed with Devland on some level. The responsibilities of the only healer within the Typhoon had been heaped on his shoulders far too early, and he still sometimes wished that Ahab was around to help shoulder the burden. Not too keen on showing weakness to anyone, let alone a newcomer to the group, Roan just let out a scoff, shaking his head firmly from side to side, "I'll have you know that I'm a very good healer, no matter what my age is. And seeing as no one else is exactly leaping at the opportunity to treat the entire group, the responsibility has fallen on me." He tried not to sound too hostile in his response, despite the fact that he so desperately wanted to be. After all, he couldn't make any new friends if he went around telling the new guys to fuck off when they had the audacity to question his young age. It wasn't as if he wasn't confident in himself, after all. He just had a tendency to get overwhelmed, when all the cards were down and he had to scramble to hold everything together.

Gritting his teeth briefly, the siamese shook those unpleasant thoughts away, his blue gaze refocusing on the other male's shoulder. The sight of it caused a grimace to come to his face, the telltale signs of an infection making his skin crawl beneath his fur. It wasn't anywhere near as bad as the infections that had plagued Ament's wounds, but it still wasn't good. Letting out a soft grunt of frustration when the other angled away from him, he spoke bluntly, "It's not good, I can tell you that. It's definitely infected, and if we leave it this way, it could get much worse. Hell, you could lose the arm." Maybe he was exaggerating a little for dramatic effect, but hopefully it would motivate Devland to stop hiding the infected wound away. Moving forward, Roan placed a paw gently against Dev's jaw, trying to push it upwards and away so that he could inspect the wound more closely. As he did so, he muttered in Devland's ear, his command short, "This'll hurt, so stay still." He didn't exactly give the other a chance to respond, digging his claws into the wound in order to open up any infected scar tissue that had begun to form. He then grabbed one of his wetted down clean rags, scrubbing softly against the wound to clean it out, and get rid of any blood.

The draconic feline was not a big fan of stalling, and that couldn't have been any more clear as he cleaned out the wound, his ears vaguely perked to listen to Devland's rambling as he worked. When he believed that the injury was sufficiently clean, Roan turned to head back to his bag, grabbing a couple of herbs that he began to mix into a poultice roughly, with his paws. As he did so, he spoke in a calm, although tired sounding, voice, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Devland. Although I wish it could be under better circumstances." He then turned back to face the other male, shaking his head, "And I don't really have any nicknames. Roan is short enough that it doesn't exactly necessitate the need for them... my mama calls me her beloved son, though." It felt weird, sharing personal information about himself so soon, but it was also mostly a tactic to get Dev to calm down before he applied the poultice.

In most cases, it was difficult for someone to truly fluster Roan. Even when he had been much younger, and more curious and bright-eyed, rather than his current exhausted state, he had never really been easy to surprise. He had always been curious about pretty much everything that had been going on around him, so instead of letting himself be surprised by everything that came next, he had investigated. Threw himself into books and interactions with others, explored every nook and cranny he was capable of finding during his young life... it had been fun, even if it seemed especially tiring to him now. However, even with all of his knowledge and the new, more composed personality he had as he neared true adulthood, Devland had managed to throw him off, somewhat. The other was just so... normal. He seemed like what the average teenager would be around Roan's age, and since Roan had been an only child, growing up in a time when the Typhoon had very few other kids, it was strange to experience. Not unpleasant, though, save for Devland's occasional whining and the fact that he was clearly trying to squirm out of treatment.

The siamese's agitation over the earlier comment was quick to fade, mainly because of Dev's quick compliments, something that Roan didn't hear often. Sure, the sage was thanked whenever he treated someone's wounds, but real compliments were rare, and the other's words made his face grow hot. Taking a deep breath, he found himself muttering in response, "I suppose you're right... I do take pride in it, though. A lot of pride. Especially since I learned from someone who was very talented..." He trailed off for a moment, his eyes growing a bit unfocused before he hastily shook his head. Now was not the time to go delving into his mind, or his feelings about his grandfather. Instead, he turned his attention back to his work, trying not to express the amusement that coiled in his chest, laughter threatening to bubble its way up at the way Devland stiffened and huffed with every little movement. At the mention of more warning, Roan finally allowed a snort of laughter to bubble forth, leaving his muzzle in a wave as he shook his head from side to side, "I didn't give you more of a warning so that you wouldn't tense up. If you got all stiff and anxious waiting for it, then it would only make the pain worse. Instead, I did it quick, like ripping off bandages." He let out a soft hum of satisfaction at his own explanation, his paw dipping down into the cocktail of herbs that he had created, soothingly rubbing the concoction against Devland's wound.

The feline took notice of the brief flash of a frown that appeared across Dev's face at the mention of family, but he didn't bring it up for now, simply noting it away for later. Instead, he turned his attention towards the bandages he was pulling forth from his bag, ready to lay them on the other's shoulder. Devland managed to catch him off guard once again, just as Roan had begun to wrap his shoulder carefully. The vaguely flirtatious comment caused the sage's face to grow hot once again, his paws fumbling slightly in his careful and meticulous work. He recovered quickly, however, muttering, "I wouldn't... wouldn't recommend it. If my mother heard you say that even once, she'd be drilling you with enough questions to make your head spin." Ignoring the way that his heart was pounding wildly in his chest, he then moved eagerly onto the next subject, "I think there have been a few times where my sister has called me Roro. It's a bit odd though, considering both my mom and I have similar name sounds, so we both share the ro." He was glad that his methods were seemingly working, considering he was nearly done bandaging Devland's shoulder entirely.