"I know, right? I was thinking we'd be washed up for weeks at that rate."

This guy is spreading the cheer (as in fuck flowers)? Roman can see why, honestly, it's been gloomy as fuck. He doesn't hesitate, taking the petal and thumbing it gently in evaluation.

"They're pretty enticing," he chirps, glancing above at the stranger and noticing he's found himself a rather comfortable bough. Jealous. Thankfully, there's room for one more and Roman is a notorious climber of trees, so he will pull himself up without trouble. He perches on a thick bough, comfortable as any bird with flight. A few petals fall on him as he does so, catching in his white-blonde hair, in the folds of his shirt. "What's Orlais? Place you're from?"