[ Once he's certain Dean is focused enough—all things considered—he drops his hand. Could've been worse, then. Burns will heal. Nothing to be done about burnt except wait for Ciri to return with Jayce, either. Fuck. Between Yennefer and Jaskier and Sam only weeks ago, he's tired of everyone around him brushing up against death.
(No. He isn't counting his multiple brushes in the past months alone. That isn't the point.)
He sits himself down on the dusty ground amidst the debris and streaks of blood that have become common decor for the streets of Libertas. The sting and ache of his own pains are beginning to sink in. It shows in the way he flexes his fingers, red and blistering. ]
I walked. [ Flatly, before he sighs, absently spitting out a lock of hair stuck between his lips. ] Ciri. She said you were trapped.
[ He lifts an eyebrow. Want to tell him how you wound up in a burning building buried under some timber? ]
no subject
(No. He isn't counting his multiple brushes in the past months alone. That isn't the point.)
He sits himself down on the dusty ground amidst the debris and streaks of blood that have become common decor for the streets of Libertas. The sting and ache of his own pains are beginning to sink in. It shows in the way he flexes his fingers, red and blistering. ]
I walked. [ Flatly, before he sighs, absently spitting out a lock of hair stuck between his lips. ] Ciri. She said you were trapped.
[ He lifts an eyebrow. Want to tell him how you wound up in a burning building buried under some timber? ]