HOWSMYSINGING : 𝙟𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙧 .
“A healer, she said she was! And herbalist! … Shit, I believe
I neglected to get her name, but alas! We can get that from
her when we arrive. She said she was not all too far south
of the village,” Jaskier would look back toward Geralt, blue
eyes big and expression full of a familiar energy.
He was infatuated with this woman. Unsurprising, given his
track record.
“She is quite the beaute, as well– but we’ll both have to see
her skills for ourselves. She said she did stock a good array
of herbs, so I’m hoping she may have some of what you’ve
been missing,” Looking forward again, he was pleased when
he would catch sight of a small hut not far from them.
“There we are! And there she looks to be as well. See, Geralt?
Your eyes can prob’ly see her better from here. Isn’t she lovely?”
The healer hadn’t appeared to take notice of the pair of men
approaching her hut just yet. She had long red hair, kept out
of her face with the help of a headband. Unlike many, she
wore flowy yet more traditionally men’s clothing– wearing
trousers instead of a skirt or dress. Alas, she used her tunic
as a means of helping her carry some things inside.
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐓 , at first . jaskier had been enamored as easily as ever , not even a name to his lips but a story to weave of it nonetheless . An emotion . How easily he uncovers and cycles through it always a mystery . Geralt gives him a sigh , following despite it . There's never any use in questioning the antics , that lesson he'd learned much , much earlier .
After all , he isn't exactly against Jaskier being particularly enthusiastic about getting in someone's good graces if it means he won't need to rely on doing so . People aren't always privy to witchers . Rarely , even . Geralt won't sit and deny his disposition has nothing to do with it . Years of the torture make it difficult to smile and nod the way people expect you to . Especially when it only so rarely works .
They were much too far from Brokilon either way ; healers were their only chance at finding some spare knitbone , after his supply had fallen during a tryst . Beggars can't be choosers . Unfortunately , the little house in the distance came into view and so did the woman outside it . Geralt decided it was time to beg and choose indeed.
❛ Jaskier . ❜ Geralt throws his arm out to catch the bard before he says anything , pulling him back far too urgently . The witcher tries to disguise the fact by shrugging as he turns , not facing him . But his grip on the bard remains . ❛ Nevermind . We'll find a different seller . Come on . ❜
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