It would, Geralt thinks, be only fitting that he manages to get up onto his knees simply to have Dean flatten him with the force of a horse tied to a rock. A thick blanket of feathery wings envelopes him.
He groans. Pushes Dean off unceremoniously—no regard for gentleness, just shoves the man right off with one hand and rolls out from underneath. Where the fuck is Ciri? Why the fuck is Jo walking on air? Are they—?
He squints up at Jo (still floating), then the thick green branches of Bleobheris. Glittering jewel wisps dance in the ethereally peaceful air, filled with fresh flowers. It's all so far from the blood and shadows of the maze that it's almost a mockery.
When he finally sits, it's with his head in his hands. He just. Needs a moment. And then he has to find Ciri. Again. Though he's assuming she did the intelligent thing and withdrew from the Horizon as they fell. Unlike, say. Her father.
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He groans. Pushes Dean off unceremoniously—no regard for gentleness, just shoves the man right off with one hand and rolls out from underneath. Where the fuck is Ciri? Why the fuck is Jo walking on air? Are they—?
He squints up at Jo (still floating), then the thick green branches of Bleobheris. Glittering jewel wisps dance in the ethereally peaceful air, filled with fresh flowers. It's all so far from the blood and shadows of the maze that it's almost a mockery.
When he finally sits, it's with his head in his hands. He just. Needs a moment. And then he has to find Ciri. Again. Though he's assuming she did the intelligent thing and withdrew from the Horizon as they fell. Unlike, say. Her father.