Wᴇʟʟ, I'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴜɴ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ғʀᴏᴍ ʜɪᴅɪɴ'

[righteously]

Who: Winchester & Co.
When: September
Where: Free Cities, Libertas, & the Horizon
What: Quests, training, or Roadhouse socializing.
Warnings: Suicidal tendencies, alcoholism, other psychological traumas.

Aɴᴅ I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴛʜᴇs I'ᴍ ᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ
Aɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴀᴅ ɢᴏᴇs ᴏɴ ғᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ
Aɴᴅ I'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ sɪʟᴠᴇʀ ᴅᴏʟʟᴀʀ
Bᴜᴛ I'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟᴇᴛ 'ᴇᴍ ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴍᴇ, ɴᴏ
Nᴏᴛ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟᴇᴛ 'ᴇᴍ ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ ʀɪᴅᴇʀ

Comments

[wiedzminka]

[ Ciri doesn't believe he's fine, but-- she is very much relieved that he's capable of answering. For now, it'll have to be enough.

She's already shifting her attention just enough to send a very brief, very urgent message to Geralt. Cross-streets. Need your help. Now. It's Dean.

The fire pushes her back further, as she gags on the heat and the smoke, and she knows Dean is going to choke to death in there soon enough, even if he's not been burnt up or crushed by now.

She wants to keep talking to him, to make sure he's still okay, but Ciri understands that he probably shouldn't be wasting his breath shouting. Instead, she waits impatiently for Geralt, backing up away from the conflagration. Her own injuries are superficial -- scrapes and bruises, made more dramatic to look at when she's covered in ash and dirt and blood.

When Geralt arrives, the conversation is brief.

She's fine. Dean's in there. She's going to get Jayce. And then, she does. ]