[He only barely notices the sound of one more body hitting the ground. Instead, Jaskier's fingers are smearing through the blood, touching the words. They linger, now printed over his hand, over the blood on them.
He's not imagining them. (How convenient would it be if he did?)]
Ciri. [He grabs her immediately, holding onto her as his arms wrap around her. Fuck. She's fine. She's fine, isn't she? Not hurt.]
Not that. It's -- [He chokes. All the empty threads they'd found already. Roach coming back.] Geralt. It's Geralt. He's alive. He sent me a message.
[Though he has no idea what the fuck he's supposed to do with it. Already he's sending a million of his own, clinging to Ciri but trying to concentrate. Geralt! Where are you? Where the fuck have you been? What's going on? Go after you where?]
no subject
He's not imagining them. (How convenient would it be if he did?)]
Ciri. [He grabs her immediately, holding onto her as his arms wrap around her. Fuck. She's fine. She's fine, isn't she? Not hurt.]
Not that. It's -- [He chokes. All the empty threads they'd found already. Roach coming back.] Geralt. It's Geralt. He's alive. He sent me a message.
[Though he has no idea what the fuck he's supposed to do with it. Already he's sending a million of his own, clinging to Ciri but trying to concentrate. Geralt! Where are you? Where the fuck have you been? What's going on? Go after you where?]