[ Jaskier needn't worry; the most Moglad can accomplish with what he's learned is shake some vines until grapes fall down for him to eat—so that he can lay on the ground instead of flying up to pluck them. His body is too damn small. The force of more would blast him right backwards before anything else. (Maybe. Probably.)
That's likely how Moglad discovered he can propel himself in the air, now that Geralt thinks about it.
He frowns. Wait. What does that mean? He can't fly. (Would be useful, though.) ]
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That's likely how Moglad discovered he can propel himself in the air, now that Geralt thinks about it.
He frowns. Wait. What does that mean? He can't fly. (Would be useful, though.) ]
I haven't got wings, Jaskier.