Roland wobbles a bit as the bowling ball demands his attention and then rebalances himself, shooting a brief look of disappointment down at it. Pets. The one thing that can never quite be convinced to properly ignore you. That disappointment is quickly dismissed in favor of the man in front of him, though, and Roland reaches out with the remaining two-fingers-and-thumb of his right hand to grasp at Donald's. "I did."

His eyes move quickly down the whole of his friend and up again. At least a brief, cursory assessment can't wait but anything else will have to, so after he does it he moves his expression into something polite, squeezes Donald's hand, then lets go of it to hunker in front of the cat. "Thank you miss, but I've eaten," he lies, presenting the back of his knuckles for the cat to sniff. "And as to strays, you don't need to worry about that. We're only passing through. We've no intention making ourselves a nuisance, nor pressing our noses into your business."