[ Ciri doesn't answer the what happened? just yet. With Sam now here, she fights harder to retain her concentration, not to let herself slip into the relief of not being alone in the desert with Jaskier's bleeding body dead weight against her anymore. It isn't time to let herself lapse back into self-pity just yet.

She takes a breath, and when she answers, her voice is steady. Almost eerily so, considering the situation. ]

He's been drifting in and out for about-- I'd say twenty minutes, thereabouts.

I am uninjured. And yes, the wound on his arm is the deepest and bled the most. I wrapped it as best I could. It's deep. Flayed open to the bone, and I had nothing to stitch it shut with.

[ Hence the shitty haphazard bandage. She's amazed it's stayed. Though she did tie the sleeves off tight. Hopefully not too tight. Jaskier needs his arms. Both of them. Gods--

Another breath, shallow but measured. Focus. No time for that. ]

No. I don't think we should move him much more. Take my place instead. If you can hold onto him and keep making your way toward the city, I'll ride back faster and find a healer to bring to you.

[ Ciri helps Sam push Jaskier up a little, into a nearly-sitting position (if he wasn't drooping so badly) and in the meantime starts to bring her leg around to jump off. ]