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[gynvael]

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Geralt is always reachable by the network. Unless it's an emergency, expect not to hear back for a few hours, if not a few days.

To talk to him in person, you'll need to be in Cadens or go to his domain, a snowy mountain fortress. Yard is open; doors are locked. If he isn't around, leave a delivery with the white wolf.

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[cointosser]

[At least Jaskier entirely accepts and understands what Red is capable of, but even is not sure the bird can make that kind of journey on its own. His magic is... honestly, it isn't that strong. Simply keeping Red and Yennefer's sandpiper in existence has been a constant drain on him, though one he has gotten rather used to. The older he's grown, a few new aches and pains has never been too surprising.]

Take care of it? How? I think you capable of many a thing, Geralt, but you cannot just say something is taken care of and be done with it. I'm not going to sit around and wait. She's my family too.

[In case he needed to be reminded. Which Jaskier is sure he doesn't, but this is him when he's wound tight, stressed. Snappy. Low patience. And unable to sit around. He can get a horse of his own, or borrow Nixie... or, perhaps a better idea, Viktor's horse, before he returns it. He can pay whatever fee shall come up.

A pause before he continues.] Dean? Why? Can that man even ride a horse?

[gynvael]

[ It is, possibly, for the best that Jaskier cannot hear Geralt curse under his breath. Sam probably can, though.

He understands. He does. But Geralt is someone who clamps fiercely down on any inkling of fear and panic. He can't afford it. And he can't afford to have Jaskier doing the same, even if he gets the inclination.

There is a reason, though, he asked if Dean was available. ]

Because if you absolutely must ride out in the dark, then take him with you.

Or Alucard.

Say you understand.

[ He trusts both. Doesn't care who. He just won't have Jaskier riding off recklessly on his own. He can't fucking worry about both of them. ]

[cointosser]

I'm not saying this to divide your attention, but I am not the soft-hearted bard you left behind on a mountain.

[There is no heat in it. Jaskier knows well he is not a warrior, and never will be. But he is a formidable magician, if he need be, and self-sufficient, and more obstinate, he thinks, than a Witcher sometimes.

Besides, Alucard is already in the desert, looking for a crypt. And honestly, he doesn't know Dean well enough to find him quick enough to satisfy this raw, ragged energy in his heart.

He's already grabbing saddle and tack, but as Geralt's final message disappears, he gives a sharp sigh into the air. His knuckles turn white with their grip on the saddle.]

I'm going past the gates. I know that land well. If I go further, you'll know.

[gynvael]

[ For fuck's sake. It's sundown. Not the middle of the day.

He truly hasn't got fucking time for this. Jaskier is not the only one with frayed nerves; perhaps his are more so than he wants to admit.

If Geralt were alone, Jaskier might have received a different answer. But Sam is here and whether or not Sam says anything or if they even talk about this, somehow merely having Sam present is enough. A reminder, perhaps, of. Perspective. It pulls Geralt out of his own stubbornness—one that always rears its head especially where keeping those he cares about safe is concerned.

In the end, he knows he can trust Jaskier will not give up until Ciri is found. ]

If anything happens to you
I'm taking Moglad

[cointosser]

[Oh, look, he IS trying to have a sense of humor. Jaskier huffs, gearing up the horse, grabbing his coat, leaving Mog in his tree with only one half-open sleepy eye looking back at him. (He kisses Mog's forehead, just in case.)]

You'd better be nicer to him than you are to me. And feed Mog, even if he loves me more.

[He certainly has changed, if he can joke about the will left behind after his doom. But the land just beyond Cadens's gates is safe enough, and he has his birds, the land ready to come at his call. Though his hands are shaking on the reins as he moves through Cadens, the horse nickering under the pull of the reins, it doesn't stop him from going.

It's hours until his next message, as he and the horse go deeper into the sands. Two mockingbirds fly ahead and behind him, calling to the air gently, almost like spies. To ensure he is not attacked in surprise. It isn't enough to still any fear in his heart. It needn't be.

And suddenly: a message scrawls on the back of the horse's neck, and it isn't Geralt's writing.

Fucking Witchers. As if it was a silly thing to worry over them. To fear for them. As if their likeliness to be hurt makes it some sort of pointless pursuit.]

Ciri. She's awake. Messaged me. She's fine, she's fine. I think... something happened, and she did something to leave the horses behind.

[Geralt's suspicions with this mode of communication have latched onto him, apparently, because he does not mention that he thinks she may have meant her strange, blinking power. The one he thinks only the two -- perhaps Yen, too? -- know of.] I believe her. Said she's a week out, with Viktor. They're coming back from Aquila.

[gynvael]

[ Geralt waits. He hates sitting on his hands, but there's fuck all he can do. Not out here, like this.

So he waits. He hunts for their dinner, builds another shelter for them inside a cave this time that he makes sure, for Sam's sake, is cleared of rats and snakes and other things that a Witcher never needs to concern himself of but a human would. Meditates.

When he opens his eyes, a message is scrawled along the dirt.

Fuck. He breathes out for the first time in hours. Weeks, it feels.

Something. Geralt asks no further. ]

I'll speak to her when she's settled.

[ As long as she's unharmed, the rest can wait. He doesn't want to disrupt what she might be doing to find her way back. Especially if she has a companion she's protecting. ]

Thank you.

[ He doesn't mean only for telling him the news. ]

[cointosser]

As I assumed. She knows you know as well.

[It's not his first time being a middleman, but this time it is, at least, relieving. She's safe. She's coming home. It's not often Jaskier worries about Ciri, but a riderless horse --

He hopes this never happens again. Twice is too many times for one bard.]

Just come back in one piece, hmm? And tell Sam he can call Red back home.

[gynvael]

[ One piece. Yeah. He sighs, gathers their things again to get moving. His head is fucking pounding. ]

Look after her.

[cointosser]

When have I ever failed to?