11-04-2020, 03:48 PM
SOOTHSAYER ❝ ROAN ❞ THE TYPHOON
"I'm a bit of a healer too." The words caused Roan to relax slightly, albeit not all the way. It was comforting to know that he was in the presence of another medically minded person, but there was always a chance Paintbrush was lying. Roan would've loved to just believed the striped male at first glance, but considering what he had dealt with in the past, he found that he just couldn't. Despite this, the sewed up feline continued to make conversation, his claws briefly digging into the sand before he muttered, "Well... I suppose it's nice to meet you too, even if this is far from the circumstances I'd want to meet anyone in." His words had a hint of a bitter edge, with his usually grumpy manner tending to show through. He would've loved to be as relaxed as Paintbrush seemed to be, but he very much needed to get home. Briefly scratching at the top of his own head, Roan hesitated for a second before continuing, "Well... I'd say we could both bond over being far from home, but I'm honestly not sure if I am. For all I know, The Typhoon could be right nearby, and this is just an island I never noticed." That certainly seemed like an unlikely possibility, unless the island had somehow perpetually been covered in fog up until now, but Roan wanted to hope that he was still close to his family.
Paintbrush's request for help was enough to soothe Roan's frustrations for the moment, even if it would only be temporary. After all, the soothsayer had always felt more at ease when he was helping someone else. It gave him some time out of his own mind - or, in this case, time away from his predicament. Taking a step forward, the tabby reached out to lightly lift Paint's leg up, blue eyes narrowing as he spoke, "You're right in not going into the woods. It would be easy to get lost, but you could also easily have this get infected on you, too. Although I suppose you knew that..." After spending another brief moment inspecting the liger's leg, he eventually just shook his head, turning to head back towards what remained of his small boat. He supposed he should just be glad that it was some random tiny boat, rather than one that was important to him, or someone else. He nosed lightly at the broken parts of the ship, his gaze scanning through the various bits of wood before he eventually lit up. Letting out a soft pleased noise, he spoke half to himself, and half to Paint, "Ah, lucky... it actually managed to survive this whole mess." With one slim limb reaching forward, Roan hooked his claws on the strap of his herb satchel, pulling it close and beginning to look inside for what had stayed intact.
After a couple of minutes of pawing through the now soggy satchel, Roan managed to pull out several herbs that had remained, although they were definitely in rough shape. Marigold was one of those herbs, and he ended up shoving a stack forward, muttering as his tail flicked from side to side, "Alright, I've got a little bit of marigold that survived... it should be enough to help with your wound, at least for now. I've also got some cobwebs... all my proper bandages entirely fell apart from the water." There was a scowl of focus on the small feline's face, the boy clearly thinking about how he would need to replace nearly the entirety of the contents of his satchel. He briefly sighed, being broken from his medical based thoughts when Paintbrush mentioned shelter. Roan's ears flattened against his skull, the zombified male clearly not pleased at the thought of needing to stay on this island for more than a few minutes. Despite this, he ended up nodding, letting out a frustrated grunt before he stated, "A shelter would be good. Maybe I can try tying the pieces of the old ship together to form a raft. Or... perhaps it would be better to just use them to help prop up the shelter." As he glanced over at the pieces of the small ship, he found himself wincing, seeing that it had mostly broken apart into smaller bits that were now rotting from water exposure.
Paintbrush's request for help was enough to soothe Roan's frustrations for the moment, even if it would only be temporary. After all, the soothsayer had always felt more at ease when he was helping someone else. It gave him some time out of his own mind - or, in this case, time away from his predicament. Taking a step forward, the tabby reached out to lightly lift Paint's leg up, blue eyes narrowing as he spoke, "You're right in not going into the woods. It would be easy to get lost, but you could also easily have this get infected on you, too. Although I suppose you knew that..." After spending another brief moment inspecting the liger's leg, he eventually just shook his head, turning to head back towards what remained of his small boat. He supposed he should just be glad that it was some random tiny boat, rather than one that was important to him, or someone else. He nosed lightly at the broken parts of the ship, his gaze scanning through the various bits of wood before he eventually lit up. Letting out a soft pleased noise, he spoke half to himself, and half to Paint, "Ah, lucky... it actually managed to survive this whole mess." With one slim limb reaching forward, Roan hooked his claws on the strap of his herb satchel, pulling it close and beginning to look inside for what had stayed intact.
After a couple of minutes of pawing through the now soggy satchel, Roan managed to pull out several herbs that had remained, although they were definitely in rough shape. Marigold was one of those herbs, and he ended up shoving a stack forward, muttering as his tail flicked from side to side, "Alright, I've got a little bit of marigold that survived... it should be enough to help with your wound, at least for now. I've also got some cobwebs... all my proper bandages entirely fell apart from the water." There was a scowl of focus on the small feline's face, the boy clearly thinking about how he would need to replace nearly the entirety of the contents of his satchel. He briefly sighed, being broken from his medical based thoughts when Paintbrush mentioned shelter. Roan's ears flattened against his skull, the zombified male clearly not pleased at the thought of needing to stay on this island for more than a few minutes. Despite this, he ended up nodding, letting out a frustrated grunt before he stated, "A shelter would be good. Maybe I can try tying the pieces of the old ship together to form a raft. Or... perhaps it would be better to just use them to help prop up the shelter." As he glanced over at the pieces of the small ship, he found himself wincing, seeing that it had mostly broken apart into smaller bits that were now rotting from water exposure.
DON'T ASK FOR HELP, YOU'RE ALL ALONE
YOU'LL HAVE TO ANSWER TO YOUR OWN PRESSURE!
YOU'LL HAVE TO ANSWER TO YOUR OWN PRESSURE!
— Reggan
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