Oh, there will be something, I guarantee it. What remains to be seen is whether it's something interesting, or otherwise.

[And interesting could really encompass so many things. Still, if you ask him, it's likely to be sand and more monsters. Maybe more of the large lizard-rats. Er. What were they called again? He wrote it down somewhere earlier.

Jaskier moves closer, propping his boots on a chair as he mirrors Geralt, tearing bread apart after smearing it with butter.

The bard looks at him. Only one of us was left on a mountain, is what comes to mind first, but it sounds far more bitter than Jaskier really is anymore.

Instead, he snorts, and he steals a bit of beans right from Geralt's plate.] Hardly. No one to talk my ear off for a few weeks, finally. The silence I so deeply crave, yet hardly receive.

[It hardly needs saying that he will find Geralt simply to kill him if he doesn't keep in some kind of touch. Years ago he'd never even think twice. Now, he does not think he could handle reliving that last winter.] Ciri's going somewhere else, then? Not alongside you?