[Time fluctuates on the road, stretching the hours longer or shortening them to disappear in the span of a single, engaging conversation. And though their ride has been uneventful so far, the latter seems to apply today, Stephen nearly loses track of how close their destination is until they ride across the crest of a hill, and a vast spread of land awaits them below. A distant line of trees stand as sentinels further along the road, and mountains jut up from the horizon line, a rugged display of the Thornean landscape. Picturesque, as many of the vistas theyβve traversed have been, and Stephen leads his horse further along at a trot. His bones still ache, but he should like to think of himself as slowly acclimating by now, less prone to random bouts of complaint.]
Just down here.
[He instructs, and a few minutes later and heβs crouched down, installing the thaumametor with the sort of half-practiced ease that comes from having done so before. His companions make small talk behind him; he remarks every once in a while, distantly, and rifles around in the bag slung over his shoulder, intent on unearthing the watch-shaped alignment device whenβ
He isnβt entirely sure what happens at first. He only knows he hears the sound of something darting across the ground, something snarling, and Stephen is upended by an unknown force slamming into him, forcing him to careen to the side. He lands hard, disoriented, sees what he can only describe as leaf-lined fur in his vision, then the angry maw of a wolf, snapping at him as he tries to shift away.
Instinct forces him to conjure a small shield in his palm, thrusting it at the creatureβs head, and he watches as the wolf(?) knocks its fangs into his magic, letting out a sharp whine and reeling back. All the while, he hears movement all around, and his brain desperately tries to make sense of this new situation: How many are there? What did they do to provoke the local wildlife? (Doesnβt matter now.) Are Thancred and Yennefer all right, or are they ensured against the teeth of an angry canine attacker?]
no subject
Just down here.
[He instructs, and a few minutes later and heβs crouched down, installing the thaumametor with the sort of half-practiced ease that comes from having done so before. His companions make small talk behind him; he remarks every once in a while, distantly, and rifles around in the bag slung over his shoulder, intent on unearthing the watch-shaped alignment device whenβ
He isnβt entirely sure what happens at first. He only knows he hears the sound of something darting across the ground, something snarling, and Stephen is upended by an unknown force slamming into him, forcing him to careen to the side. He lands hard, disoriented, sees what he can only describe as leaf-lined fur in his vision, then the angry maw of a wolf, snapping at him as he tries to shift away.
Instinct forces him to conjure a small shield in his palm, thrusting it at the creatureβs head, and he watches as the wolf(?) knocks its fangs into his magic, letting out a sharp whine and reeling back. All the while, he hears movement all around, and his brain desperately tries to make sense of this new situation: How many are there? What did they do to provoke the local wildlife? (Doesnβt matter now.) Are Thancred and Yennefer all right, or are they ensured against the teeth of an angry canine attacker?]