[ When he opens his eyes to the glade, the lush green leaves, he swears he must be fucking dreaming. Then he realizes—
He didn't mean to come here. He's clinging by a thread, he's fairly certain he's dying, and slipping into something meditative is all he's got. He'd followed it, the pull and thread that's become second nature. Hadn't thought twice.
The Horizon.
There's a reason he's not stepped inside. Last time he was this fucked up, entering for a matter of seconds was a mistake. Now he's here, unintentionally, and. Fuck. Fuck—
He braces against the great trunk. Tries to gather his bearings. Geralt has never altered his appearance in the Horizon; with his focus barely there, he doesn't even think to try now. He looks as much like shit as he feels, open sores and wounds splitting his flesh. His eyes are filled black. ]
horizon ; jaskier.
He didn't mean to come here. He's clinging by a thread, he's fairly certain he's dying, and slipping into something meditative is all he's got. He'd followed it, the pull and thread that's become second nature. Hadn't thought twice.
The Horizon.
There's a reason he's not stepped inside. Last time he was this fucked up, entering for a matter of seconds was a mistake. Now he's here, unintentionally, and. Fuck. Fuck—
He braces against the great trunk. Tries to gather his bearings. Geralt has never altered his appearance in the Horizon; with his focus barely there, he doesn't even think to try now. He looks as much like shit as he feels, open sores and wounds splitting his flesh. His eyes are filled black. ]