[He'll freeze to death, Geralt! He doesn't wear any clothes!
Jaskier clings to Geralt's back with the tenacity of an octopus, trying to follow Mogworth's trajectory while also not having his eyeballs get sucked out of his skull by the wind. Seriously, where the hell is this moogle going? And why isn't he trying to fly out of this... this torrent?
The answer, apparently, is so he can clock Istredd right in the head in a manner that Jaskier suddenly hypothesizes may have been completely intentional. Consciously or not, the little moogle is modeled off one of the most stubborn arseholes he's ever met.]
Mogworth, you fool idiot! What do you think you're doing! [The moogle appears as stoic and unrepentant as the Witcher on the bike as Jaskier takes him into his arms, hugging him. Immediately it tries to escape his embrace by hitting him on the head.] Ow. Oh, thank you, Istredd! The little cretin almost got away from me.
[The little cretin is pushing his paws against Jaskier's face like a cat that has been picked up and would like to be anywhere but here.] My apologies. I'm afraid he's been unlike himself as of late.
[Mogworth finally opens his mouth to point past them, where a small morbol (also a lost denizen of Jaskier's domain) is trying to chase after what appears to be some sort of... metal dog, possibly in order to eat it. You've got a morbol infestation, Mogworth says as explanation.]
How does that explain the cartwheeling through the sky...?
[Mogworth does not elaborate. Instead, with a guttural grant, he adds:
no subject
Jaskier clings to Geralt's back with the tenacity of an octopus, trying to follow Mogworth's trajectory while also not having his eyeballs get sucked out of his skull by the wind. Seriously, where the hell is this moogle going? And why isn't he trying to fly out of this... this torrent?
The answer, apparently, is so he can clock Istredd right in the head in a manner that Jaskier suddenly hypothesizes may have been completely intentional. Consciously or not, the little moogle is modeled off one of the most stubborn arseholes he's ever met.]
Mogworth, you fool idiot! What do you think you're doing! [The moogle appears as stoic and unrepentant as the Witcher on the bike as Jaskier takes him into his arms, hugging him. Immediately it tries to escape his embrace by hitting him on the head.] Ow. Oh, thank you, Istredd! The little cretin almost got away from me.
[The little cretin is pushing his paws against Jaskier's face like a cat that has been picked up and would like to be anywhere but here.] My apologies. I'm afraid he's been unlike himself as of late.
[Mogworth finally opens his mouth to point past them, where a small morbol (also a lost denizen of Jaskier's domain) is trying to chase after what appears to be some sort of... metal dog, possibly in order to eat it. You've got a morbol infestation, Mogworth says as explanation.]
How does that explain the cartwheeling through the sky...?
[Mogworth does not elaborate. Instead, with a guttural grant, he adds:
Kupo.]