[Geralt is probably the only man he can trust not to ask questions when asked not to. He takes a few shaky steps -- it is not automatic for him, readjusting to four legs after living so long on two -- and they're awkward, his claws digging into the grass. A few more steps and it comes back to him. Somewhat.

He isn't near as fast as Geralt, and is much smaller than him; his loping is a few strides for the wolf. After having compared their sizes, Yennefer's jokes of him riding Geralt's back were not merely only jokes. He easily could if he needed.

For the moment, the point is to do something. To not think of the rest.]

Yes. Returning from my annual visit to Oxenfurt, still filtering the ale from my liver. [He weasels his way under some branches, ears flicking in every direction as the forest rustles around them.] You'll be much warmer here in spring, won't you? I... before, I was working on a warmth charm. I should be able to craft the opposite for you. It'll be good for me, I think. A project.