[He is dimly realizing that, somehow, this is even smaller than the kestrel. He fits inside Geralt's hand without even a tail feather sticking out beyond it. He gives an undignified hoot -- though in this form, it still sounds like a squawk -- once released, fluffing up the feathers of his wings and body until they smooth down again where he wants them.
He looks down, stretching out a leg. Oh. Oh, that's freaky. He quickly tucks it back underneath him again.
He's starting to realize owls are actually incredibly off-putting. Or maybe he has an owl phobia, all things considered. He did have an owl try to take his eyes out more than once...
He fluffs again, loosing sand from his feathers. Ugh. Well, at least it's better than having it down his trousers.]
She should be jealous! I make a far better owl than her, don't I? I don't care how bloody big she was. Too big if, you ask me. She tried taking my scalp off more than once.
[Jaskier notices nothing, but he certainly moves away from sitting next to the stupid jug.]
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He looks down, stretching out a leg. Oh. Oh, that's freaky. He quickly tucks it back underneath him again.
He's starting to realize owls are actually incredibly off-putting. Or maybe he has an owl phobia, all things considered. He did have an owl try to take his eyes out more than once...
He fluffs again, loosing sand from his feathers. Ugh. Well, at least it's better than having it down his trousers.]
She should be jealous! I make a far better owl than her, don't I? I don't care how bloody big she was. Too big if, you ask me. She tried taking my scalp off more than once.
[Jaskier notices nothing, but he certainly moves away from sitting next to the stupid jug.]