[Jaskier smiles, knowing in his way, and then sips the water finally. It took more energy than he wished to use, but it's such a cooling balm, he takes another.] Not his fault, of course. He simply wished for me to be quiet for a spell.

[Okay, that sounds terrible, but he's not in a mind to be really paying attention. Jaskier shakes his head.

No. He hasn't thought about it. His friends are perfectly fine. And as he looks at Sam, he knows that even as the group he considers friends grows wider, the quality has not dropped at all.

With all his complaints, it possibly sounds like Jaskier would not attempt to defend Geralt. But he would be the first to do so, if his character were on trial. Despite his faults -- and they are many, specifically his penchant for being gooey, gory, or sticky -- he is. A good friend.]

You're a glutton for punishment, I see. A regular masochist. [He drains the rest of his water, setting the cup aside.] They may never say it, but we're all very glad you're here. Specifically me, of course. And whatever potion you put in me. I'll have to find a new one to replace it, since apparently we're to be in dire need of potions to bring one back from the brink of death.