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this is another WIP snippet I won’t get around to posting for several more days (it’ll be in Little Fishie eventually) but I’m just so proud of myself, in various discussions there were headcanons that Witchers totally have eyeshine and i have been struggling now for days to come up with a scenario to show that off and i just managed it.
_____
“It was hard for me to tear myself away to go back out on the road this summer, I’ll have you know,” Jaskier went on. “But, I thought, absence has a way of improving affection, surely, especially in someone as, hm, concentrated in dosage as myself–”
Geralt snorted semi-accidentally, and Jaskier went on, sounding smug– he’d set that up, the bastard, to get a reaction– “so my going away was really only in service of my eventual triumphant return. Or so I hope. We’ll see if she has missed me when I come back.”
“I’m sure she has,” Geralt said.
“Also her husband spends the summers with her,” Jaskier said, “and it seemed politic for me to– aaugh!”
Geralt had just stepped out from behind a tree to give Jaskier a disapproving look at the tidbit about the husband, and Jaskier was between him and the fire. Jaskier, looking at him in the gloom of the woods, shrieked and dropped whatever branches he had, and went scrambling backward into the clearing, tripping over himself.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Geralt said, following him.
Jaskier flailed backward almost into the fire, and finally recognized Geralt. “What the fuck,” he said.
Geralt knew exactly what had happened. The firelight had caught his eyes, and in the dark that was all Jaskier had seen of him. “It’s just me, you dim shit, I was standing there the whole fucking time,” he said, a little more viciously than he meant to, but it never put him in a good mood when a companion was horrified to incoherence by some aspect of his fundamental physical self.
He dumped the branches down onto the ground, and went back to retrieve the ones Jaskier had dropped in his sudden terror.
“It’s just you,” Jaskier said faintly, gathering himself. “Holy fu– the light caught your eyes so strangely, you looked like a wolf or something.”
“I am a fucking wolf,” Geralt said, really grumpy now.
“No but like you had, what’s that called, ah, tapetum lucidum, oh yeah– eyeshine,” Jaskier said. “What a strange illusion.”
“I do have eyeshine,” Geralt snarled.
“You do not!” Jaskier said, astonished.
Geralt growled in annoyance, but stepped back into the shadows and crouched to turn and look at the fire from Jaskier’s level.
“Oh holy fuck,” Jaskier said, “you do, that is fucking awesome, how did I never notice that?”
this is another WIP snippet I won’t get around to posting for several more days (it’ll be in Little Fishie eventually) but I’m just so proud of myself, in various discussions there were headcanons that Witchers totally have eyeshine and i have been struggling now for days to come up with a scenario to show that off and i just managed it.
_____
“It was hard for me to tear myself away to go back out on the road this summer, I’ll have you know,” Jaskier went on. “But, I thought, absence has a way of improving affection, surely, especially in someone as, hm, concentrated in dosage as myself–”
Geralt snorted semi-accidentally, and Jaskier went on, sounding smug– he’d set that up, the bastard, to get a reaction– “so my going away was really only in service of my eventual triumphant return. Or so I hope. We’ll see if she has missed me when I come back.”
“I’m sure she has,” Geralt said.
“Also her husband spends the summers with her,” Jaskier said, “and it seemed politic for me to– aaugh!”
Geralt had just stepped out from behind a tree to give Jaskier a disapproving look at the tidbit about the husband, and Jaskier was between him and the fire. Jaskier, looking at him in the gloom of the woods, shrieked and dropped whatever branches he had, and went scrambling backward into the clearing, tripping over himself.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Geralt said, following him.
Jaskier flailed backward almost into the fire, and finally recognized Geralt. “What the fuck,” he said.
Geralt knew exactly what had happened. The firelight had caught his eyes, and in the dark that was all Jaskier had seen of him. “It’s just me, you dim shit, I was standing there the whole fucking time,” he said, a little more viciously than he meant to, but it never put him in a good mood when a companion was horrified to incoherence by some aspect of his fundamental physical self.
He dumped the branches down onto the ground, and went back to retrieve the ones Jaskier had dropped in his sudden terror.
“It’s just you,” Jaskier said faintly, gathering himself. “Holy fu– the light caught your eyes so strangely, you looked like a wolf or something.”
“I am a fucking wolf,” Geralt said, really grumpy now.
“No but like you had, what’s that called, ah, tapetum lucidum, oh yeah– eyeshine,” Jaskier said. “What a strange illusion.”
“I do have eyeshine,” Geralt snarled.
“You do not!” Jaskier said, astonished.
Geralt growled in annoyance, but stepped back into the shadows and crouched to turn and look at the fire from Jaskier’s level.
“Oh holy fuck,” Jaskier said, “you do, that is fucking awesome, how did I never notice that?”
