Roland shakes his head, straightening. Not since the age of fourteen has Roland expected the actions of one lover to another to be mindblowing, a shock like to change a person's entire life, and he does not give a thought to the idea now. The corners of his lips are curled up, though, and his expression is warm. This arena had not been nearly so isolated as some others because Alain is, if not a talkative companion, certainly a steady and welcoming one, but there are some kinds of welcome which Alain has never given Roland. No matter what some of Panem's more passionate authors may think.

"Only arrived today," he says, and runs a fond thumb over the side of Signless' face. His thumb, at least, still works as it ought, and though that hand's first two fingers hold themselves stiff and away from the side of Signless' head the rest of Roland's hand is happy to stay there, keeping him close. "And you? Must've been waiting here. Nothing too urgent, I take it."