[Jaskier purses his lips primly.] Yes, strained it. That must be it.

[He can guess how it got to the state it had been in, actually. Either it had been a target of whatever happened to him -- for something most assuredly had -- or he'd slipped and hit it upon a rock or some other object.

He sighs. It's a topic for another day. As it is, Jaskier is only just beginning to ease the fingers that have clenched around his heart for the last few weeks. He truly... there were moments where he was not sure. He was not sure they really would find him again.

And truthfully, they didn't. They did not find him. Geralt found them on his own. In the end, there was nothing they could do.]

I didn't spend all that time doing nothing, you know. [As if it was only another break between their meetings. The winter on the Path. Though winter often lasted much longer, and he's no longer sure it ever really comes to Cadens.

The flower looks absolutely ridiculous on him. It truly does say enough that he leaves it there.

Jaskier slides over, patting the space of the bed beside him.] You might as well get more sleep without Sam's proddings while you can.