[ She says it too quickly, too flatly, a tightness at the corners of her mouth.
Geralt is protecting her. She wants to strangle him for it, but -- if only logically -- she understands.
Besides, it's not as though she could go after him anyway. She has no idea where he is. Even if she'd had full access to her abilities and wasn't too cautious to use them, she couldn't do anything to help if she doesn't know where to find him in the first place. In that way, Geralt has guaranteed that she'll listen to him. For now.
She takes the sword from Jaskier, slinging the strap over her shoulder alongside her own sword, which by now has been wiped off and put back in its scabbard at her back. ]
All right. I'll have a look around and join you shortly.
[ It's quiet now. With the sun gone behind the far mountains on the horizon, the chill begins to settle in the air, temperatures plunging quickly for how warm it had been earlier. The sharpness of it cuts through the cloying smell of blood and corpses as Ciri makes her way to the embers of the fire, poking it a bit to get a small flame going and make a torch. By its wan light, until the moon gets high enough, she picks her way through the camp for any traces not completely erased by the bandits (and her and Jaskier). There isn't much. Geralt's camping supplies, the saddlebags that had been missing from Roach when she wandered back. A blanket, with silvery white hair clinging to its coarse fibers.
She packs everything up, stamps out the fire, and heads back to Jaskier. The vultures and outrices can have the rest. ]
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[ She says it too quickly, too flatly, a tightness at the corners of her mouth.
Geralt is protecting her. She wants to strangle him for it, but -- if only logically -- she understands.
Besides, it's not as though she could go after him anyway. She has no idea where he is. Even if she'd had full access to her abilities and wasn't too cautious to use them, she couldn't do anything to help if she doesn't know where to find him in the first place. In that way, Geralt has guaranteed that she'll listen to him. For now.
She takes the sword from Jaskier, slinging the strap over her shoulder alongside her own sword, which by now has been wiped off and put back in its scabbard at her back. ]
All right. I'll have a look around and join you shortly.
[ It's quiet now. With the sun gone behind the far mountains on the horizon, the chill begins to settle in the air, temperatures plunging quickly for how warm it had been earlier. The sharpness of it cuts through the cloying smell of blood and corpses as Ciri makes her way to the embers of the fire, poking it a bit to get a small flame going and make a torch. By its wan light, until the moon gets high enough, she picks her way through the camp for any traces not completely erased by the bandits (and her and Jaskier). There isn't much. Geralt's camping supplies, the saddlebags that had been missing from Roach when she wandered back. A blanket, with silvery white hair clinging to its coarse fibers.
She packs everything up, stamps out the fire, and heads back to Jaskier. The vultures and outrices can have the rest. ]