[ Stranger things, he supposes, than crouched on the floor with a drunken moogle. It crunches the candy, and answers with the sort of expansive ambiguity that Jaskier can be prone to. Geralt's expression grows thoughtful.
Perhaps it says something that Moglad continues to exist in this facsimile of Oxenfurt. Moglad and the birds. Remnants of a time before, in the same way the miniature fern horse remains in the keep. His wolf. ]
Can't protect much if you only know how to grip a bottle. [ A small wooden sword appears in his hands. He holds it out for Moglad to take. This is not, in the end, about Moglad. It's about Jaskier—his apparent desire to keep what's close to him safe. What may have happened to Jaskier, whether Geralt ever ultimately learns the story behind it or not, the act of moving on remains the same. You find what's important and you hold onto it.
Sometimes that manifests in the shape of a winged ball of fur that drinks too much and has the grace of a cave troll.
Besides. What the fuck else is there to do while he's here? ]
no subject
Perhaps it says something that Moglad continues to exist in this facsimile of Oxenfurt. Moglad and the birds. Remnants of a time before, in the same way the miniature fern horse remains in the keep. His wolf. ]
Can't protect much if you only know how to grip a bottle. [ A small wooden sword appears in his hands. He holds it out for Moglad to take. This is not, in the end, about Moglad. It's about Jaskier—his apparent desire to keep what's close to him safe. What may have happened to Jaskier, whether Geralt ever ultimately learns the story behind it or not, the act of moving on remains the same. You find what's important and you hold onto it.
Sometimes that manifests in the shape of a winged ball of fur that drinks too much and has the grace of a cave troll.
Besides. What the fuck else is there to do while he's here? ]