SET FIRE TO OUR BED ☆ "flight"

[roan ;]

[align=center][div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 12pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: times new roman;"]♡ — Another new face showed up to Roan's unfortunate little gathering, although this one always proved to put a bit of a smile on his face whenever he showed up. The winged kit had never interacted with Salem for any extended period of time, really, but the other was always showing up when he was needed, very effective at getting the young boy's mind off of the negatives going on around him. It used to be just because of the pumpkin that the other wore upon his head being distracting enough on its own, but now it was just because Roan liked the sound of Salem's voice, and how soothing the other usually was. The draconic kit found himself smiling, his former sadness and pain forgotten under the praise that Salem was giving him. Sniffling a little bit, Roan wiped out the last of the tears that had been stinging his eyes, his voice firm as he nodded, "It was very brave, wasn't it...? Thank you, Salem! Do you think one day I'll really be able to fly like mama?" Sure, his mother had reassured him that one day he would be able to take off into the sky like she did, but if his friend Salem agreed? Well then of course it was true! Salem was really smart, at least in Roan's opinion.

While the boy was thinking about whether he'd be able to fly and about how smart Salem was, his mother soon returned from her adventure to go and get marigold for his wound. He lifted his head up when she was back in front of him, blinking slightly red eyes before he said proudly, his chest puffed up, "Didja hear that, mama? Salem thinks what I did was very brave." The boy was so caught up in his own pride that when his mother put the marigold paste on his cut, he only winced a little bit, letting out a soft whine at the sting of it. It wasn't so bad that it made him recoil away or anything, especially after the pain of the initial jump, but his mouth still pulled downward for a moment. Once the sting somewhat subsided, he looked down at the cut on his leg, wrinkling his little nose at the scent of the marigold before speaking, "This stuff will help the cut on my leg heal, mama?" He didn't know much about herbs or medicine, given the fact that it was not yet a subject he had gotten curious enough to ask a hundred questions about, like he did with most things. Perhaps this would be the catalyst, and he would be found later badgering Idyll with all of his mundane questions about medicine.