dragonlady7

witcher, exrayspex

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so I’ve been sitting on this, because I wanted to get Swearwolves done for Halloween, but I have to drive across the state and then go to a sort of not exactly party tonight but I’m going to hang out with some friends and then quarantine long enough to come back for turkey processing and it’s a whole thing, and logistics, and so on

and I wanted to post this silly story today but it’s not done, quite, and needs a little more tweaking, and it doesn’t stand alone, and I have a section that’s done, but I haven’t like, found the heart of the whole thing, really?

and I was doing it with a co-author sort of, and they’ve got a chunk but IDK if they’re ready to post it at any point, and anyway–

the whole humorous premise is that the Wolf school Witchers are actual werewolves and hilarity ensues, but all the snippets that are done are sort of… not introductory, like you have to already know they’re werewolves for it to be funny.

So that doesn’t really look like it’s going up tonight. But I urge you to think about how funny it would be, anyway, and maybe I’ll get it up sometime in the coming days once I figure out the punchline to the introductory bit.

Here’s a very Halloweeny snippet:

Jaskier opened his eyes and looked around, heart pounding now. “Fuck,” he whispered. The landlady had been so emphatic that he shouldn’t come here, and here he was. Not just a little shortcut across the edge, like he’d hoped; no, he was in the heart of the woods. He could not have strayed in here without some deliberate effort.

There was a long silence, broken only by the wind blowing hard enough that a tree branch rubbed against another one with a stuttering groan, a long pause, and then the same stutter again as it returned to its original position.

Jaskier started walking, half-holding his breath, stepping lightly, listening for echoing footsteps, listening for that rustling in the undergrowth. At first he heard nothing, but a few paces later he paused suddenly and heard it: a faint rustle as something that had been moving stopped with him.

That was worse: it was aware of his motion, and using his movements as cover for the sounds of its own movements.

He wasn’t being watched, he was being stalked.