[ Geralt pats Jaskier absently on the back while his friend is bent over, breathing hard. ] Or perhaps you're just slow.
[ He's poking fun. His attention is ahead, finally catching scent of the slain lizard nearby. Must've found more appetizing prey. Can't be anything too dangerous if Mog was bold enough to run after it. Geralt takes a step forward. The little gryphon, fortunately, is not a stealth creature nor the thing it's pursuing. Clear tracks in the sand, a feather or two caught in some brush. A dragging tail upon the ground. As he suspected, the other set of prints appears not especially large—a bit smaller than Mog, in fact.
Something tells him the gryphon's not gone far. Either it'll catch up to its target soon or tire on its, mm. Stubby legs.
Geralt does not give chase as a result. He simply follows the trail. It leads him around a rocky cliff, down a steep hill, and. There.
He waits for Jaskier to join him before he gestures to the scene ahead: Mog pouncing repeatedly on a small armoured beast that's curled up protectively and has taken to rolling around in the dirt to evade the miniature gryphon. He has not stopped out of caution. He's stopped because this is an amusingly absurd fucking spectacle and he can't help pausing to watch these two creatures fumble about.
Though if the cub has strayed, its mother must be nearby. Hm. He should probably fetch Mog. ] Wait here. If you hear a thrashing, stay out of sight.
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[ He's poking fun. His attention is ahead, finally catching scent of the slain lizard nearby. Must've found more appetizing prey. Can't be anything too dangerous if Mog was bold enough to run after it. Geralt takes a step forward. The little gryphon, fortunately, is not a stealth creature nor the thing it's pursuing. Clear tracks in the sand, a feather or two caught in some brush. A dragging tail upon the ground. As he suspected, the other set of prints appears not especially large—a bit smaller than Mog, in fact.
Something tells him the gryphon's not gone far. Either it'll catch up to its target soon or tire on its, mm. Stubby legs.
Geralt does not give chase as a result. He simply follows the trail. It leads him around a rocky cliff, down a steep hill, and. There.
He waits for Jaskier to join him before he gestures to the scene ahead: Mog pouncing repeatedly on a small armoured beast that's curled up protectively and has taken to rolling around in the dirt to evade the miniature gryphon. He has not stopped out of caution. He's stopped because this is an amusingly absurd fucking spectacle and he can't help pausing to watch these two creatures fumble about.
Though if the cub has strayed, its mother must be nearby. Hm. He should probably fetch Mog. ] Wait here. If you hear a thrashing, stay out of sight.