[ his laugh brings a smile to her lips, an easy curl that feels almost like a secret. and as he pushes off her comment, even as he says there isn’t a soul out there, yennefer turns up her nose. it’s dramatic, meant to be performative, as she says: ] Well now there’s one. [ then a smile breaks through again, easing into a laugh of her own.

there is a part of her that starts to worry - only fractionally, about this strife he seems to find himself in. the fact he is not worried for himself, in that strife. but even as she would like to spend the time worrying about him, the conversation shifts, evolving back towards her, towards this love. it’s a strange thing, a concept that is meant to be so beautiful, conjuring something not necessarily unwanted, but unsure, complex, in her gut. unsure. that uncertainty flitters across her face for just a few moment before. she turns to him, though she’s not entirely sure why, catching the way his hands tighten around the reins. the thoughtful almost tension in his eyes.

but its unknowing does not lessen its strength.

could that be applicable here, too? how yennefer is shifting through all of these moments, this strange place, without knowing who she is or what brought her here? does her unknowing not lessen this moment, on this cart? she is quiet for a moment, considering this, before she speaks again. ]

And what if you, Julian? [ if he looks to her, the smile will be soft, small, gentle. some of that earlier concern for him filters through, too. she shifts just a bit closer, as if the words they share are secrets for only the two of them. it is this close, though, that she notices him. the shape of his jaw, the length of his nose. his eyes, too, bright and knowing, stunning, where they sit under the fringe of his hair. ] You speak of unknowable love, but that it’s only sometimes. You have have a love of which you know- where does your heart lie?