( OPEN ) february catch-all
Who: Geralt + Jaskier; Yennefer; You
When: February // Feoveuer
Where: Aefenglom
What: A rescue. Not quite from who you'd expect. + other things as they come.
Warnings: Violence, CW related to the current event.
[ starters in comments. plot with me at
discontinued! ]
OPEN: post-kidnapping
CLOSED: Jaskier | Yennefer | Jaskier pt. ii | yennefer + myr
When: February // Feoveuer
Where: Aefenglom
What: A rescue. Not quite from who you'd expect. + other things as they come.
Warnings: Violence, CW related to the current event.
[ starters in comments. plot with me at
OPEN: post-kidnapping
CLOSED: Jaskier | Yennefer | Jaskier pt. ii | yennefer + myr
no subject
He turns his head toward the northeast--the motion uncannily like he could follow Geralt with the eyes he hasn't got--before delicately stepping after the Turnskin.]
Nothing definite. [The birds remain perched on his antlers as he moves, apparently along for the ride. Periodically, one of them will twitter and bat its wings just as he's about to trip over something; he pauses, then, and adjusts course.] The bear might have been making unusual sounds. She might have had a fluttering piece of color on her. [So, a crying bear with a piece of clothing.]
They don't have very long memories. If we find a crow--or even a jay--on our way, they might have more to tell me.
[There does, at least, seem to be a place up ahead where something bear-sized forced its way through the undergrowth into the forest proper. Lots of jaggy sticks, there--the kind that are good for catching tufts of fur and loose thread.]
no subject
She follows, filing away the mention of what she can only assume are more human emotions from the bear. That was good, there was a chance Yen might be able to break through the more feral thoughts in favor of reason. If there could even be reason with love when running from heartbreak.
Something else she understood intimately. Something she could demonstrate here and now for the bear -- that her time wasn't out. Not yet.
Quietly she continues to follow them, letting them converse while she works on stringing together her thoughts into something quick and effective. ]
no subject
He keeps an eye out until they come upon a small patch of grass, littered with torn leaves and fallen twigs. The bear isn't subtle in its agitation. That makes it easier.
Geralt steps forward without a word. He crouches by the undergrowth, sniffing the air. No fresh scent nearby. If she made her way through, she's not close anymore. The first branches he lifts out of the way, there's nothing. But going deeper, he does catch sight of something: not just a small tuft of fur, but blood, too. A faint smear of it where the brush has twisted with thorns.
He reaches in carefully, slicing the twig off with a small knife. He glances over his shoulder at Yennefer. ] Is it enough to track with?
I can totes delete this and shuffle it if needed since I'm going out of order :D
[ Because the emotional turmoil that was apparent in the carnage of the created path, something ached a bit for the bear. There was a vulnerable and brutal honesty that came with certain levels of pain, reaching for the twig as she concentrates.
There's a moment, pulling a few other components out of her pouch to strengthen the spell -- kneeling down on the ground to lay everything out. ]
Well, the birds were correct. We should keep going northeast, though she's gone more towards true north. I'm guessing towards a water source or a makeshift shelter.
no this is perfect! my brain was not working with me on an in-order tag
One of the birds departs; another more colorful specimen wings in to take its place.]
Poor thing. [He has been trying not to imagine the state their quarry must be in--it would hurt too much to do so--but it's difficult to keep that up.] Can you tell how far--
[A twig snaps in the forest ahead of them, the sound distinct for all its distance. Myr's ears swivel toward the sound, the rest of him gone still as he weighs the potential threat.
The whatever-it-is begins crunching through the underbrush vaguely in their direction. It at least doesn't sound big enough to threaten something Myr's size, or even human-sized; the big deer unfreezes after a moment.] --how far away she's gotten?
sorry for the delay!
His pause is briefer than Myr's, though his ears swivel all the same. No, it's not the sound nor scent of a predator. He steps forward, pressing north as Yennefer's indicated—and as another twig snaps, the flash of red fur reveals itself: just a small fox, burrowing in the grass. It stares at them before bolting over crushed leaves made by something much larger. A few squished berries stain the ground red, and he can see where the bushes have been picked clean.
Probably hungry. He knows how it is, the hunger. If the Witch hadn't been injured, he'd have brought Beau along for a familiar face. Three strangers confronting a distressed Turnskin? Not ideal. ]
Shouldn't be far. Feral or not, her instincts should keep her where the water's uninfected.
[ His hope is she's avoided reinfection so far. He's not interested in returning to tell the man his Bonded became a lost cause. ]
no subject
Not that she fully expected an injured turnskin to be really focusing on creating a trap for them, but there's a certain amount of paranoia that's hard to shake after enough years having to constantly watch her own back.
She can only hope that they're enough, that the truth honied in their words will ring through the pain and fear. Yen listens as they continue forward, intentionally making a point to not keep her steps light as she's in no mood to startle their target. Especially as they grow nearer to the water source. An easy distinction she can try to make between their group and a hunting party unless asked for silence. Something she might argue. Pointedly keeping her hands free of anything that could be misconstrued as a weapon, her eyes bounce between the trail and her two travel companions for anything she might not be able to pick up as a Witch. ]
my turn to apologize for being late!
Onward, then.
[Toward the water, and presumably food, though their quarry will be in competition for that with all the other fattening bears this time of year. It's a notion the Faun considered before setting out; now seems an opportune time to bring up some of the supplies he brought, as they push into the forest in earnest.]
I brought food for her, [he mutters as they walk, quiet but not a whisper. Better anything they might startle can hear them coming; without knowing, he's of a mind with Yennefer in that.] Left pannier. Might help calm her down, when we find her.
[That they will find her, he is fixed on; the world would be too cruel, otherwise, and he's had enough of cruelty this last month.
The sound of the Temese grows steadily louder through the trees, and with it, the noises of creatures that call the riverbank home. Myr slows, ears twitching and turning once more, his steady steps grown more tentative as it becomes harder to listen to his avian guides.
Somewhere ahead, a bear snorts, and coughs, and bellows a challenge. Another roars back in short order.
It seems their wayward Turnskin isn't the only one at the water.]
no subject
The thick animal scent finds him before he hears the roar. Geralt reaches for Yennefer first, a hand on her elbow to try to keep her from going any further. ]
Stop. [ He steps ahead, between some thick leaves, to see if he can catch a glimpse. There are certainly two bears: one larger than the other, with only a scrap of the cloth Myr had spoken of on her, and much less bright than it had once been. He can tell it's her blood, same as what they'd found, even if he can't spot the wound from this angle.
Shit. He takes a second to consider. They don't need three of them to confront Labete. And he knows full well out of their little group, he's the most likely she'll find a threat—another Turnskin is a visible challenge to whatever territory she's carved out.
Leaving both Myr and Yennefer with an unstable Turnskin isn't what he'd planned. But they don't have much choice. He trusts Yennefer can handle it, if things go awry. ]
I'll draw it away. [ He's already tucking his equipment under the brush, an indication that he means to change. If anyone means argue with him, they'll need to do it quickly.
He holds out a small round metal ball, with a trigger, for Yennefer to take: one of Jaskier's smoke-filled sleep bombs. ] You two talk to her.