SOOTHSAYER ❝ ROAN ❞ THE TYPHOON

Of all those that Roan had expected to show up at the border, Paintbrush was very much not one of them. Not because the soothsayer disliked the other, or didn't want to see him. Rather, he had just expected the other to be comfortable where he was. He had seemed perfectly at peace with just wandering about and interacting with anyone that he came across. Roan had just happened to be one of those anyones that Paint had come across, although the feline's circumstances at the time hadn't exactly been great. He almost regretted how hostile he had been in their first few moments of interaction, but it wasn't as if that had been for no reason. He had been crash landed and alone, faced with a large and unfamiliar liger that could've just been looking for something - or someone - to eat. However, his impressions had changed when Paintbrush had spoken up, and he had to admit that he had been glad to see the other at the Monthly Meeting. Not that the medic would ever admit that, since it would mean getting closer to someone, which only ever brought trouble with it. He knew better, after already losing so many of the people in the past that he held so dear.

Roan had been in the temple when the ringing of the bell echoed across the territory, and the soothsayer hesitated before sighing and grabbing his bag of herbs. Slinging it over his shoulder, the zombified feline made his way towards the tracks, figuring he might as well say hello to whoever had decided to show up on their territory. Of course, when he heard Paintbrush's name getting called out through the air, he found himself pausing, blue eyes widening. He would've been lying if he said his steps hadn't sped up a bit, the male eventually coming up to stand beside Keona. It took a moment before Roan spoke up, stitched up tail twitching as he spoke, "Paintbrush... hey. I didn't think that you'd end up coming here..." Realizing that must've sounded a bit like he didn't want the other around, he hastily added on, "I'm glad you're here. I'm sure that you'll end up enjoying your time here. After all, it's my home, and... I don't really have any complaints." He offered a bit of an awkward smile, not sure why he felt so odd about all this. Paintbrush was his friend, so it was natural for him to feel happy the other was here, right?

SOOTHSAYER ❝ ROAN ❞ THE TYPHOON

It seemed as though both Paintbrush and Roan were awkwardly stumbling through their interaction, despite the soothsayer's best efforts. However, the zombified feline simply couldn't help it. He was far from used to having close friends, and he was especially unused to having close friends that made him feel the way that Paint did. He couldn't exactly place what it was that made the other so different, but the effects were definitely there. The way that his heart quickened, and the way that his face seemed to heat up beneath his fur whenever the other was around. Perhaps if the medic was a bit more open and perceptive to his own emotions, he would've been able to process it all as being a crush on the liger. As things were, however, the tabby was simply unable to even consider that as a possibility. He had never had a crush on anyone before. He had never thought of anybody in that way, and he had certainly never envisioned himself in a relationship like the one his mama and Diya had. However, that didn't mean that things couldn't change.

Paintbrush's little jab about his sailing skills caused the heat in Roan's face to grow, a soft huff leaving the soothsayer before he spoke, "Listen, I'm just a bit sailing challenged. It's not as if it's a skill I've ever really needed to use before. I'm not the one who goes out and sails the seven seas, I'm the one who stays home and picks the flowers for when the sailor inevitably gets hurt." He spoke with such confidence in that moment, his chest faintly puffed out. He would not have his sailing skills in question, when he had a permanent rusty streak with them. When Paint then moved on to comparing The Typhoon to a "permanent vacation," Roan couldn't help the small bit of laughter that rose up from his throat. Shaking his head from side to side, the zombified tabby warned warmly, "Don't let any of the others hear you say that. They'll be sure to pile plenty of work on your shoulders to make sure you don't think of it that way again." Roan had never really thought of The Typhoon as a vacation, although that wasn't just because it had been his home since birth. It simply would've been impossible for him to picture it that way, considering how much work he did as a medic.