SOOTHSAYER ❝ ROAN ❞ THE TYPHOON

Frustration. In bubbled and coiled in Roan's stomach, making the soothsayer want to lash out and dig his claws into Kliment's face. However, the draconic feline was smarter than that, knowing full well that such an endeavor would only end in his death. He had already tried to make an initial escape, made obvious by the scratch wounds that covered his back legs, as well as his now missing chunk of horn. However, that didn't mean he was completely silent, occasionally making snide comments and lashing out with his words. Thankfully, it didn't seem as though Kliment was eager to kill him over just words – not yet, at least. Truthfully, he wasn't sure what the other's intentions were, exactly. Roan was fairly sure that he wasn't exactly a great piece of prey for the other, considering how large Kliment was and how small the siamese was by comparison. Was it just a show of force? Seemed like a sub-par one, considering he was only a feline, and a medic at that. Still, the soothsayer made no attempt to question the other, at least for the moment – there was no real reason to, considering he had every intention of trying to escape when the time was right.

A soft grunt left the male's throat as Kliment's paw was shoved onto his head, long tail twitching behind him as he squirmed. The scent of the Iron Forged made his skin crawl, a groan leaving the soothsayer before he muttered to Kliment, "Here? Why would you even come here? This group is just a bunch of cowards, too scared to do their dirty work when anyone's attention is actually on them." It was almost funny, how Roan's words were more pointed towards the Iron Forged, rather than Kliment himself. The simple fact was that the draconic male couldn't help but be bitter, hating every bit about this new group that had popped up. Not only had they been too cowardly to strike when most of the Typhoon's attention wasn't on the Coalition, but they had messed with Roan's livelihood. In fact, the whole reason he was here was because he had been searching for herbs. Needless to say, the male would've been much more glad if he had been brought literally anywhere else – except perhaps the Coalition.

FIRE AND "BRYMSTONE"

"I knew someone would bring up the age old cliché." Amusement tinged his words as he walked forth through the massive thorn infested jungle, eyes wide open and sockets holding rolling bluish purple orbs. He knew it was coming, the same tune of if they didn't face them head on they were just simply cowards. Not that their group was simply out witted. That their feeble little brains were not smart enough to think that anything else could happen while they were trying so desperately to gain ground. He was pleased with what they had accomplished, what they had taken to cripple them further and if they had problems well, welcome to dragon central. The Ironfolk could be very devastating on their own. Yet his gaze never once traveled to the captured creature. Instead he was more intrigued with the one that had brought this Typhooner. "Another one, hmmm? We will be full of these pirates before long." Twisting vertebraes of his tail rattled and coiled as the stinger rose up. Smiling bone jaws parted a little and he chuckled lightly. He wondered how mad the sea urchins would be. Although one he had not actually planned to take.

He would let this one decide what he wanted to do with him. "Welcome aboard then, Kliment. I am called Brymstone, through this forest and across the lava scape you will come to your new home. Ore mountains. You can go there at your leisure." If he wanted a tour he could ask for one but he had a feeling that they would rather do things their own way. The Dragon would be keeping an eye on them though. He liked them so far, much like Vale he found their oddities intriguing.