middaeg | ( OPEN ) february catch-all

(( THE WILDE; end of month; morning ))
[ Lately, he's been reluctant to venture too deep into the Wilde as he usually does -- between Jaskier and Yennefer, he's stayed closer to the city -- but it also means after a couple weeks, the restless itch becomes harder to ignore. When a Witch follows him through the city with a handful of cunes and a broken arm, he finds himself eventually accepting.

Maybe he just doesn't want to walk by a week later and discover the same Witch still without his bondmate. (Maybe that hits a little too close to him.)

It's only natural to ask Yennefer to come: he needs her magic. Besides, it seems a good opportunity to simply be. Doing something that isn't about the kidnapping that night.

Though don't ask him how a third stranger has wound up tagging along, too. He figures the man will insist on coming either way, with company or not. Might as well take him. He packs up Roach, gathers the sleeping bombs Jaskier has made for him, and waits for Yennefer before they make their way to the edge of the woods. It's where he's asked Myr to meet them. Most of his injuries have healed, though a few marks from the silver chains remain, largely hidden beneath his sleeves and on the underside of his palm.

At least an overstressed bear shouldn't be difficult to find in the Wilde. It's bringing her back that'll be the problem. ]

Edited 2021-02-23 21:15 (UTC)

[Myr's own reasons for inviting himself along on this little jaunt were simple: He also needed an escape from the city in the aftermath of the Circle's dissolution. An escape that meant helping someone in desperate need? All the better. The sheer urgency of the situation--Cwyld-infected Turnskin, forest full of temperamental bears, the full moons coming on--made it a perfect distraction from all the things he doesn't want to be thinking about right now.

He's under no illusion that this will be easy, but it's a damn sight more straightforward than the disaster the rest of his life's become.

Eagerness (and desperation) made him punctual to the rendezvous Geralt had given him. He's hard to miss, having taken deer-shape for their foray into Wilde: An enormous white stag nearly the size of a moose with all his gear tidily strapped to his back and an incongruous blindfold wrapped around his face. His ears swivel toward the sounds of someone--several someones? And is that a horse?--approaching; he lifts his antlered head from investigating a fallen log.]

Hello?

[ It had been necessary to keep Geralt close when Jaskier was in the hands of the Cult. Both out of her own fears and that need to make sure he didn't make an impulsive decision or get grabbed. But the threat was mostly gone, weakened at least enough that an immediate retaliation wouldn't be in the next few months.

She has a few extra healing brews on hand and a few ointments and bandages from the Coven to assist with the infection. The prospect of attempting to return a bondmate to someone, to bring them back from the brink of being too far gone... It also hits a bit too close to home for her. Given how close she'd been to possibly losing both Geralt and Jaskier. An attempt to refresh some of her less violent skills, negotiation and a calming force in a high stakes situation something she could manage.

Yen is the first to speak when they arrive at the meeting spot, the very large white stag catching her eye. ]

I take it you're Myr? [ She looks to Geralt for confirmation, having not met the other one coming along on this particular quest. ]

[ Hard to miss is one way to put it. His ears swivel, taking in the creature. There's an undeniable part of him deep down that thinks prey when he lays eyes on a fully turned Faun. It's also some cause for concern given they're on the search for a feral bear, in a forest full of actual bears.

Not the most ideal hunting party he's ever put together. But here they are.

His gaze drifts to Yennefer, then back to Myr. The blindfold is recognizable enough. ] Mm. You've changed a bit.

[ Geralt takes Roach by the reins. It's difficult to say what's waiting for them. Breaking a curse is one thing. Convincing someone they aren't a curse is another. That's a path he'll likely leave to Yennefer. He's just here in case they need more than words to handle it. (And because, quietly, he would like one damn thing for once to end not in bloodshed and nightmares.) ]

Yes. You're Yennefer.

[There's a least upward lilt of a question in his voice. (Strange thing, that: Clearly like a man's but with undertones of the sounds a deer's throat is more suited for.) --He ordinarily wouldn't forget a name entrusted to him, but his memory has not been itself, lately.

Few things have been. But he's feeling well enough to be out, which is a positive change, and is confident in his skills as a Faun to contribute to the outing.]

Seemed safer, [he adds, to the hazy cloud of predator-scent with Geralt's voice.] If I'm big enough to give a bear pause.

[But none of them are here to talk, so--he turns his head and ears toward the forest again. Incongruously, a little warbler drops from one of the trees to perch on his antlers.]

Most of the birds here haven't seen a bear doing anything unusual. That they remember, [and little birds do not have long memories, in his experience,] but one did say she saw one coming across the fields from the city to run northeast, a few days ago.

[ It’s all a matter of perspective, honestly. A faun might be better bait to draw out the feral bear than her Witch self. Not that they intended to let any harm come to Myr, but it upped their possible odds of hopefully crossing paths with their target.

She gives a nod at what she interprets as a sort of question, letting them take their time to handle the tracking portion of their quest while she plans out a few responses of her own in preparation for whatever they may face. She needed to decide how much information she was willing to divulge, and how much truth she was willing to share.

Yennefer doesn’t even think twice about the fact that he was speaking with the birds, absorbing the information and leaving the final decision to them on where to go. Though, she will add her own question. ]

A few days ago… I suppose it might be worth exploring that way to see if we can pick anything up.

[ After all, if she were looking to run from something, the more distance she could put between herself and the city might be best. Though, if they can find any trace doubling back towards the city, it might be a good sign that the bear would be more willing to be receptive to the idea that they’re wanted and welcome. ]

[ His intention had been to track the old fashioned way, so there's an arch to his eyebrows when the Faun seems to be communing with the birds.

That's useful. Geralt eyes the creatures on Myr's antlers. He knows enough of the Faun not to doubt that he's really speaking to the forest animals—but it does beg the question of how accurate bird information is.

It's good enough for a start. He turns to the northeast, heading in that direction. If the birds are right, they'll pick up a scent soon. ]

Did they say anything else?

[The notion he might be useful bait had crossed Myr's mind as well, and spent enough time there he'd planned for the eventuality. The stag in him hated the idea, of course, but it wasn't the one making decisions.

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.]

[ At least, in this instance, he wouldn't be harmed. That is the goal, Yennefer also prepared and willing to take care of any immediate healing should it come to it. But, ultimately, it'd be easier if it isn't necessary.

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. ]

[ His attention turns to Myr now and again as they walk, though the Faun seems to manage just fine on his own. Or with the help of his forest friends, in any case.

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?

If you need me to, yes. Though, I suspect we may be able to find her with some ease.

[ 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.

[Having got them headed in the right direction, Myr's content to let Geralt and Yennefer ply their respective expertise in tracking their quarry. He halts some feet from the Bonded pair, head lifted and ears twitching as he listens alternately to his companions and the forest.

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?

[ Water source, he thinks, would make sense given the warmer weather out here and that bears prefer to fish. Geralt eyes the horizon ahead, where the river flows through the Wilde.

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. ]

[ Yen's head cants to the side a bit, watching the fox run away -- scanning the ground as she also spots the crushed leaves. Worry seeps through her bond to Geralt momentarily before dropping back into something more neutral. While it's great for them that they won't need to spend the better part of the day wandering in the woods, not interested in having this confrontation at night, it still felt too easy.

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. ]

[Fox-musk and crushed berries. Myr dips his great head to take the scent from the grass, before craning his ears after the fleeing fox. It's in too much of a hurry to answer questions, off about its vulpine business, and he doesn't bother inquiring: They've their direction, after all.]

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.]

[ Geralt, for his part, lets the two of them do the announcing of their arrival. He moves as silently as he always does, the trail easier to follow now that they've caught it.

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.

( OPEN ) february catch-all

♞ myr + yennefer

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sorry for the delay

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sorry for the delay, my notif got eaten by dw

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I can totes delete this and shuffle it if needed since I'm going out of order :D

no this is perfect! my brain was not working with me on an in-order tag

sorry for the delay!

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my turn to apologize for being late!

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