[Jaskier's laugh is certainly one filled with merriment, drenched in wine. But it comes as easily as all of his laughs do, as more and more of his weight lays against Geralt. More because it's too much effort to hold himself up anymore.

The Horizon allows this. And Geralt's presence adds onto it. He is safe here. In Sam's house, with his best friend, he's never been safer in his life.

Gods, isn't that a thought?

Jaskier looks over with a smile, and he tugs a bit of Geralt's hair simply because he knows he can get away with it. Even through this drunken haze, he will remember all of this. The haze is not real; it's more like a blanket he allows to settle over him. So he will recall Geralt's expression when he held up the horse, a fantastical whim that Jaskier had the power to fulfill.

If he must be here, it makes all the difference he is not alone. That... fuck. If he had come here alone, where would he even be?

Not at Sam's house, enjoying his company. All of this company. It is worth it, almost, sometimes. Being here. Taken from the only world he's ever known.

Ah. It's probably just a drunk thought. He has plenty of them.] You have your charms, Witcher. But I? Will not list them out. Er -- I'm not saying there's even enough to write a list. But I would be loathe to watch your head expand from your ego swelling.

[This is definitely something Geralt's said to him before.]