[Looking between them, he's quite sure he will never need to be worried for Mog. Surely his Destiny is to be as spoiled as Roach. (He hopes Rinwell won't be afraid of him, but he doesn't think so. The girl is terribly brave.)

Together, the flower stand is coming together rather well. Whether or not it's an instance success, Jaskier's heart is all the lighter being out here, working in the sun, taking careful hand of his own grown plants. his friend by his side. It's something to do, something to give his whole heart to.

He understands why Geralt, too, needs the same. Distraction. Purpose.]

Hah! I hope so. Rinwell, too. [He won't fight her. In fact, he hopes to tell her the good news (well, good to him) when he introduces her to the gryphon.

A sign, in a way, that he means to stay. Jaskier may be crass often, and flamboyant, and taken to fluttering about like a bird, but he will not abandon his responsibilities. Of which Mog is now one.] And, if it's not too much trouble, I mean to ask you to bring him some goodies from your next hunt. A heart or liver or such.

[Mog lifts his head at heart, indicating that Jaskier may have already spoiled him with one. Or three.]