[ If it makes Geralt feel any better, Jaskier supplied very little info, given his self-created role as Official White Wolf Historian. Got in a fight with a mage over Ciri, broken back, not paralyzed. That was most of what she got.
Which she gets, but is also an incredibly frustrating way to be updated on something as severe as this.
One nice thing about living with an apothecary is that there is never a shortage of various balms and lotions and oils about. Julie has found a batch of the earlier CBD experiments, where Nadine was still working out the exact formula; the jar is labelled with a higher percentage of the extract than Nadine finally settled on for general sales. Not that she's sure that will mean anything for Witcher biology, but it seems worth a shot either way.
She takes his shirt from him and tosses it into the egg shaped chair in the corner, then follows him to the bed. There are so many new marks, already healed into places that were fine just a few days before. Her heart aches uselessly, irrational guilt for not being there.
With her knees bracketing his hips, she can't restrain from briefly pressing her lips to one of the new scars on his shoulder before she rests on her heels and takes a handful of lotion from the jar. For a moment, there is a slight sense of delicacy in the way her palms run over him, like she can't stop herself from worrying that she might hurt him, but she is able to overcome that quickly enough.
Thumbs digging into the knot between his scapulae, she absently hums a melody, lost in the repetition of the movement. ]
no subject
Which she gets, but is also an incredibly frustrating way to be updated on something as severe as this.
One nice thing about living with an apothecary is that there is never a shortage of various balms and lotions and oils about. Julie has found a batch of the earlier CBD experiments, where Nadine was still working out the exact formula; the jar is labelled with a higher percentage of the extract than Nadine finally settled on for general sales. Not that she's sure that will mean anything for Witcher biology, but it seems worth a shot either way.
She takes his shirt from him and tosses it into the egg shaped chair in the corner, then follows him to the bed. There are so many new marks, already healed into places that were fine just a few days before. Her heart aches uselessly, irrational guilt for not being there.
With her knees bracketing his hips, she can't restrain from briefly pressing her lips to one of the new scars on his shoulder before she rests on her heels and takes a handful of lotion from the jar. For a moment, there is a slight sense of delicacy in the way her palms run over him, like she can't stop herself from worrying that she might hurt him, but she is able to overcome that quickly enough.
Thumbs digging into the knot between his scapulae, she absently hums a melody, lost in the repetition of the movement. ]