[ Ciri knows his hand, recognizing the letters instantly even as they begin to uncurl before her eyes, glittering and nearly fading right into the bright flame she's sitting next to. They've made camp along the side of the road, not unusually; the merchant has his wagon to sleep inside in moderate comfort, and has already retreated within after supper, a little drunk and starting to snore early. Ciri, as she had agreed to do, keeps watch over the wagon and the cart, the horses and the goods (and Rinwell). It isn't late enough for either of them to be asleep.
Geralt's message lingers for a few moments atop the fire. Then, it fades into the flames. When she closes her eyes, the brightness of both lingers behind her eyelids. Her stomach twists, anxiety tight behind her ribs. It's foolish to wait for more; she knows what Geralt will expect. When the message repeats, an unanswered reminder (the magic somehow knows she hasn't responded, and she's long since stopped bothering to figure out how), Ciri finally sends her reply. ]
The training yard. When?
[ Already, she is asking Rinwell to keep an eye on things for her, with a promise that she'll pull Ciri out of the Horizon if anything happens. Or if she stays in too late, past the first watch they'd agreed upon. ]
no subject
Geralt's message lingers for a few moments atop the fire. Then, it fades into the flames. When she closes her eyes, the brightness of both lingers behind her eyelids. Her stomach twists, anxiety tight behind her ribs. It's foolish to wait for more; she knows what Geralt will expect. When the message repeats, an unanswered reminder (the magic somehow knows she hasn't responded, and she's long since stopped bothering to figure out how), Ciri finally sends her reply. ]
The training yard. When?
[ Already, she is asking Rinwell to keep an eye on things for her, with a promise that she'll pull Ciri out of the Horizon if anything happens. Or if she stays in too late, past the first watch they'd agreed upon. ]