[Jaskier gives a sigh of relief once the Witcher has his hands (delicately, he notices) around the gryphon.] You failed to mention there is a much larger one, presumably, out there.

[It's not said with much worry, though. Once they're along together, he takes the gryphon back and cradles the naughty thing against his chest.]

I'm not putting a leash on him! What is he, a dog? He's much smarter. Aren't you, Mog? [He coos, then recalls he is meant to be disciplining the gryphon, not praising it.] Now, you can't go off on your own hunting things! You're not a bloody dragon, all right?

[Mog gives a chirp-purr, which is equivalent to the most pathetic sound in the world.] Ugh, don't pout. I know you were only trying to help us with breakfast. [He pauses. There's no second trumpet, at least, but now he can certainly hear something large moving.] Probably.