[Jaskier's hand is firm on his shoulder, in case Geralt gets some sudden ideas about where he should be, and where he should be going. The answer is simple: absolutely nowhere. Not, unless, Jaskier so wills it. He will ask Sten to commandeer all of Oleuni Square if he must.
Anything to keep this fucking Witcher still, so he may heal.
Though with his wakeful ness, Jaskier does have further places they could be. Limited. And the bard will accompany him, of course, because he doesn't need Geralt drowning in a tub after all of this.
However, he does need a wash. Not because of the stench (all right, that is a good portion of it), but because of the blood and the still-lingering wounds. For curing this... thing that he truly never grasped the entirety of. Perhaps not even a part of it.]
I thought you trusted me? [Jaskier smiles, none-too-gently scooping Mog off the bed to place him back on the floor, where he walks away haughtily as if it were all his idea. Truthfully, Jaskier should probably not have brought him, but on the return to Nocwich from the mountains he needed someone to keep him sane while his companions slept off their journey.] I returned with her first, safe and -- well, relatively sound. She is better off than you, to be sure.
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[Jaskier's hand is firm on his shoulder, in case Geralt gets some sudden ideas about where he should be, and where he should be going. The answer is simple: absolutely nowhere. Not, unless, Jaskier so wills it. He will ask Sten to commandeer all of Oleuni Square if he must.
Anything to keep this fucking Witcher still, so he may heal.
Though with his wakeful ness, Jaskier does have further places they could be. Limited. And the bard will accompany him, of course, because he doesn't need Geralt drowning in a tub after all of this.
However, he does need a wash. Not because of the stench (all right, that is a good portion of it), but because of the blood and the still-lingering wounds. For curing this... thing that he truly never grasped the entirety of. Perhaps not even a part of it.]
I thought you trusted me? [Jaskier smiles, none-too-gently scooping Mog off the bed to place him back on the floor, where he walks away haughtily as if it were all his idea. Truthfully, Jaskier should probably not have brought him, but on the return to Nocwich from the mountains he needed someone to keep him sane while his companions slept off their journey.] I returned with her first, safe and -- well, relatively sound. She is better off than you, to be sure.