[ there is something about him, yennefer notices. he's used to speaking with people, used to being liked and amiable. she's not yet sure if it's a mask covering something vastly different than the charming, easy conversations he presents, but there is a craft to it. something that comes with experience. it's enough that it draws her curiosity, so much so that if he's looking, he might just see a shift from vague indifference towards this conversation to an almost mild interest. at the very least, despite her mood, she doesn't look like she's going to get up and leave.

it also means that his first comment - the obviousness of it - gets a short roll of her eyes. yes, yes, of course, those you've spent time with the looks says. that is the easier answer, and very obviously not the one she was looking for. so when he continues, some of that leaves her. those who have chosen to think for themselves he says. yennefer finds the answer...what? agreeable? in line? she doesn't know why it would matter, especially with solvunn in the immediate horizon, but perhaps that's why. knowing that there is an immediate end, that she may never see him again.

she eyes her wine when she asks, ]

And is your home in as short supply of those as others?

[ free thinkers, those not driven by someone else's dictations. there's a sharp edged sarcasm to her tone, like she has an idea of the world and she does not expect to find many who fall into that category.

it's the huff that catches her, though. an amused sound that has her attention back to him as he continues. she's already argued with one boy today about magic, about having magic, and part of her is almost ready to snap at this one as well. that magic can be learned (except for her case). that it is so readily available here it almost makes her sick. if jaskier, of all people, can get to a point where he is sending birds across the continent itself (said bird who is currently up in the rafters of this very tent) then anyone can manage it.

but then he starts to explain about his magic, specifically a short phrase of at one point i was capable, and yennefer freezes to her spot.

she should be more careful about this, less visibly reactive. it's damning, more damning than she can be right now. but this man who she hasn't even gotten his name takes a sip of his wine and shrugs like it doesn't matter and says i no longer have the ability and yennefer feels a bit as though the ground falls out from under her. ]

You...don't? [ her voice is soft, just above a whisper, like the words escape from her before she realizes they're being said. it's a second later before yennefer is blinking, pulling herself back from whatever free fall had just begun. the panic that she's been so careful to step around, to avoid. the slip of it has her feeling off-balance, unmoored, and immediately tensing back again - her attention back on anything else, like taking her bottle and pouring herself another glass of wine. ]

I am sorry to hear of that. [ is what she says next, and while her transition back to that distance is nearly seamless, she is still thinking back to the fact it happened at all. to how quickly that has slipped under her skin.

( to geralt's face, in the horizon. you've already painted a target on your back )

she's back to the presentation of before, vaguely interested, distant. back to the simple conversation they'd been having. back to a thinly veiled edge, if he came too close. ]

What keeps you in Thorne, then? Unless you're the political type, the focus of the kingdom is primarily arcane.