[Well. Two horses, and a chocobo. Jaskier's mount is mostly a creature meant to be flashy, but he has spent months with her, training with her, and mostly teaching himself how to comfortably ride a giant bird. Now she has her own special saddle, with unnecessary detail and a horn for him to hold himself upright both, and he's well-learned of her remarkable intelligence and even temperament -- not to mention how she can leave a horse in the dust in the sands of the Badlands. After being boarded with Roach and Ciri's horse, she's long gotten used to the other animal's presence.

It is testament to Jaskier's belief in his chaos -- and his experience with traveling -- that he does so surprisingly light. His lute hangs from his back, and a dagger is strapped to his boot, but otherwise only a small saddlebag hangs from the chocobo to keep her load light.

Sometimes, he sings -- or practices his singing. Oftentimes he's writing with his journal carefully balanced on his legs, quill scratching as he pulls a hood over his head to shield his neck from the sun. At night he grows fruits and bright green grasses good for chewing to rid the mouth of sand, and pools of water he uses to fill their skins.

Once the night comes where Dean begins to complain (at least he lasted this long,) Jaskier only snorts. Rather soft for all his hard edges, isn't he?]

I wouldn't have minded the wyverns. At least you would've had a little something to keep limber with. [And they may be false dragons, but they're rather adorable. If Cadens ever had a merchant to come through with domesticated wyverns...] And maybe I'd love to watch your budding little Witcher fight his way through half a dozen fully-grown wyverns.

[Said between one berry popped into his mouth and the next, lips curled upward with amusement. Ah. Something about it would definitely be quite fun.]