[ honestly, sam hadn't thought about it before taking this trip, but the need to roam, the need to travel, had also been a fairly normal part of his life back home. whether that had a direct connection to his wings, and how much freer he'd felt knowing he had them to fall back on, but also the purpose that came along with it. bouncing back between missions, dc, delacroix, and god - his minor cross-global trip tracking down the serum and flag smashers just a few months before showing up here. sam has tucked it away as part of the process, how used he'd gotten to being able to travel easily, at any time, and how it has to do with his tech, with the easy modernity he'd been so used to.
it's like being able to breathe a little easier, without realizing you'd been struggling to. like a weight being lifted you hadn't known was there.
sam feels a bit like he can breathe better out here, but he also doesn't know if that's because geralt is keeping him busy. that there's so much to camping, to traveling, to hunting that sam's mind can't afford to wander back. to marlo, to mal, to the growing tension in the air. something is going to happen, he knows it, and it's driving him insane not having a direction to move in yet. too worried about pushing too far in one, not enough in another. with this, with camping, there is always a next step. something to do.
it's enough that sam can feel bits and pieces of himself start to relax, the tension in his shoulders easing. it's just sparring, it's just practice, but sam doesn't carry any of that background worry as he adjusts the practice sword in his hands. ]
Okay- for one? I'm offended you think I get all my jokes from Jaskier. I have my own material. [ he steps in for another strike, or at least an attempted one, because geralt steps to the side or leans just enough that sam just gets air. on the next, and the one following. sam steps back for a moment, recenters, before cracking another smile. ]
But, after seeing you both at Julie's? I get the connection. It looked like y'all had fun. [ which, okay, maybe sam shouldn't bring up the party - he'd managed to successfully avoid talking about how he wasn't quite able to shake the mood there, in the same way he can here, and he's not really in the space to want to talk about it now. not when he's finally getting a few moments to breathe. so he chooses that moment to strike- or at least make some semblance of a fake and strike, which is why it gets close enough, and how geralt reaches out to stop him. he notes the approval, or whatever its closest cousin seemed to be, and feels the prideful sort of warmth spread out in him. ]
Yeah yeah. [ he rolls his eyes and loosens the stance, steps away again to reset. he knows he's doing quite a bit wrong, objectively probably has a better idea of what he's supposed to do than he can really put into practice. but that's why they're here, isn't it? sam breathes for a few moments, rolling his shoulders. ] Well? Hit me. How bad am I?
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it's like being able to breathe a little easier, without realizing you'd been struggling to. like a weight being lifted you hadn't known was there.
sam feels a bit like he can breathe better out here, but he also doesn't know if that's because geralt is keeping him busy. that there's so much to camping, to traveling, to hunting that sam's mind can't afford to wander back. to marlo, to mal, to the growing tension in the air. something is going to happen, he knows it, and it's driving him insane not having a direction to move in yet. too worried about pushing too far in one, not enough in another. with this, with camping, there is always a next step. something to do.
it's enough that sam can feel bits and pieces of himself start to relax, the tension in his shoulders easing. it's just sparring, it's just practice, but sam doesn't carry any of that background worry as he adjusts the practice sword in his hands. ]
Okay- for one? I'm offended you think I get all my jokes from Jaskier. I have my own material. [ he steps in for another strike, or at least an attempted one, because geralt steps to the side or leans just enough that sam just gets air. on the next, and the one following. sam steps back for a moment, recenters, before cracking another smile. ]
But, after seeing you both at Julie's? I get the connection. It looked like y'all had fun. [ which, okay, maybe sam shouldn't bring up the party - he'd managed to successfully avoid talking about how he wasn't quite able to shake the mood there, in the same way he can here, and he's not really in the space to want to talk about it now. not when he's finally getting a few moments to breathe. so he chooses that moment to strike- or at least make some semblance of a fake and strike, which is why it gets close enough, and how geralt reaches out to stop him. he notes the approval, or whatever its closest cousin seemed to be, and feels the prideful sort of warmth spread out in him. ]
Yeah yeah. [ he rolls his eyes and loosens the stance, steps away again to reset. he knows he's doing quite a bit wrong, objectively probably has a better idea of what he's supposed to do than he can really put into practice. but that's why they're here, isn't it? sam breathes for a few moments, rolling his shoulders. ] Well? Hit me. How bad am I?