[The noise Jaskier makes is caught between a hum and a laugh.] She does. Of course she does! I'm quite likable, thank you. It's why I have so many friends.
[And so he does. Ones, he might add, that he did not make out of spite for other friends who left him far behind.
He no longer holds it against Geralt.
His fingers run over silver belt buckles, imagining the sort of wolf he would think himself: its head thrown back, flowers threaded in its fur, with pointed ears laid backwards. Geralt's choice, he imagines, will be much more straightforward in design.]
Unwittingly I've already picked her up a gift in a hand-painted pack of cards. [He lifts the small leather pouch tied to his wrist.] For the nights she destroys you in games. But for her nameday, I feel she needs something more... Is there a decoration, perhaps, for a saddle? Something that may not get in the way?
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[And so he does. Ones, he might add, that he did not make out of spite for other friends who left him far behind.
He no longer holds it against Geralt.
His fingers run over silver belt buckles, imagining the sort of wolf he would think himself: its head thrown back, flowers threaded in its fur, with pointed ears laid backwards. Geralt's choice, he imagines, will be much more straightforward in design.]
Unwittingly I've already picked her up a gift in a hand-painted pack of cards. [He lifts the small leather pouch tied to his wrist.] For the nights she destroys you in games. But for her nameday, I feel she needs something more... Is there a decoration, perhaps, for a saddle? Something that may not get in the way?