ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ (Geralt of Rivia)

xɪɪɪ.

ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ: xɪɪɪ.

Geralt kept looking back at Thazina. 

It was starting to drive her mad. He would turn to look at her, open his mouth as if to speak, and then turn away. Faldrid seemed to be growing angrier about it by the second. Every time Geralt did it, Faldrid's hand would fall to his sword. Thazina was half convinced that she was going to have to break up a fight between them by the end of this journey. She hadn't minded Faldrid's attentions until now. Now, they were verging on jealousy, jealousy over a woman who had promised him nothing. Jealousy aimed at a man who Thazina was sure could rip the boy in half with his bare hands if he'd half a mind to. 

It wasn't as if Geralt was in the habit of killing young guards, but she could picture it quite clearly in her head. The right combination of words, threats, more likely, might just make Geralt snap.

Thazina winced as she stepped on what had to be the tenth rock in her path. Her visions could show her all manner of things, but sometimes she wished they were simple enough just to tell her where to step.

Their trek took them uphill at a steep incline.

"Melitele preserve us," Thazina heard Jaskier saying. "What happened here?"

"Dragons avoid people," Geralt noted as he took in the tangle of fallen trees beside the path. "It should have left when they attacked. I don't get it. Why the retaliation?"

Along the side of the mountain they could see trees, still smoldering faintly. "The poor creature might not know where else to go. It may just want to defend itself," Thazina offered in a small voice.

"Could be it," Borch agreed. "When your species is on the verge of collapse, perhaps everything becomes more desperate."

There was all manner of conversations that took place during the long walk. 

Just ahead of Thazina, Jaskier stepped back from the two women, Téa and Véa, who were with Borch. "Ladies, you look famished," he said. "Allow me to wander aimlessly into this thicket and retrieve for you, uh... a tasty afternoon treat." And wander aimlessly into the thicket he did, Thazina watching his red-clothed form closely because a part of her knew the bard would somehow find a way to get himself killed. He was muttering to himself as he tromped through the underbrush.

"There's something back here," he called after a moment.

Geralt groaned at that statement as everyone else turned to see.

"It sort of looks like a faun," Jaskier continued.

"Jaskier," Geralt stated.