Jaskier has only been in the presence of one of Geralt's brothers for all of three minutes and the witcher regrets everything. The fact that they get along immediately isn't surprising; Eskel has always been friendly for a witcher, chattier than Geralt and not a prick like Lambert. And that's fine, this would be a rough winter if at least one of the other witchers didn't like his bard. But there are miles of difference between liking Jaskier and gossiping with him about Geralt like bored schoolgirls, and considering that he has known Eskel since he arrived at Kaer Morhen as a child? The other witcher has a veritable fountain of stories to entertain Jaskier with.
Geralt only has so much dignity.
He frowns when Eskel steals the vodka bottle and takes a swig out of it-- there goes the bottle he'd tried to save. Even if he hides it again, his brother knows it's here and will search the damn place top to bottom to find it. Geralt catches the bag of jerky that's tossed to him, putting it back in the cabinet as Jaskier pulls the blankets off of the floor.
Eskel laughs, probably at the accurate description of their youngest witcher brother. "Yeah, Lambert's already there. Got somebody new, too-- a Griffin, goes by Coën. You two are the last ones up the mountain this year."
"Coën?" Geralt shakes his head. "Never met him before. Lambert bring him along?"
"No, he says he used to travel with Clovis. Came here with his medallion, to bring us the news."
One less of them. Most wouldn't even get this much-- at least Clovis had someone who would bring the news back to Kaer Morhen.
"Hm."
"Yeah. Anyway!" Eskel is moving on from that quickly, trying to keep the mood from going too maudlin. There'll be time for that later, at the keep with the rest of their brothers. Not in a cold hunter's cabin with nothing better than old vodka to raise a glass to their fallen kin. "Let me tell you about the wyvern. Might not be a good enough story for a song, but if you do write one, make sure you mention my good looks, yeah?"
Eskel is a far better storyteller than Geralt; he doesn't skimp on the details, knows how to tell an actual story rather than Geralt's concise descriptions that are more like reports rather than narratives. The wyvern ought to be in hibernation by now, with how cold the weather is, but this one must have been roused from its slumber-- could be for a number of reasons, Eskel mentions, from being disturbed by beasts to simply being too ill-prepared to sleep through the whole winter-- and had been seen periodically in the skies for several days, each time circling closer and closer to the keep. Lean and driven mad from hunger, it was practically a mercy to put it down before it did something drastic and dangerous.
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Geralt only has so much dignity.
He frowns when Eskel steals the vodka bottle and takes a swig out of it-- there goes the bottle he'd tried to save. Even if he hides it again, his brother knows it's here and will search the damn place top to bottom to find it. Geralt catches the bag of jerky that's tossed to him, putting it back in the cabinet as Jaskier pulls the blankets off of the floor.
Eskel laughs, probably at the accurate description of their youngest witcher brother. "Yeah, Lambert's already there. Got somebody new, too-- a Griffin, goes by Coën. You two are the last ones up the mountain this year."
"Coën?" Geralt shakes his head. "Never met him before. Lambert bring him along?"
"No, he says he used to travel with Clovis. Came here with his medallion, to bring us the news."
One less of them. Most wouldn't even get this much-- at least Clovis had someone who would bring the news back to Kaer Morhen.
"Hm."
"Yeah. Anyway!" Eskel is moving on from that quickly, trying to keep the mood from going too maudlin. There'll be time for that later, at the keep with the rest of their brothers. Not in a cold hunter's cabin with nothing better than old vodka to raise a glass to their fallen kin. "Let me tell you about the wyvern. Might not be a good enough story for a song, but if you do write one, make sure you mention my good looks, yeah?"
Eskel is a far better storyteller than Geralt; he doesn't skimp on the details, knows how to tell an actual story rather than Geralt's concise descriptions that are more like reports rather than narratives. The wyvern ought to be in hibernation by now, with how cold the weather is, but this one must have been roused from its slumber-- could be for a number of reasons, Eskel mentions, from being disturbed by beasts to simply being too ill-prepared to sleep through the whole winter-- and had been seen periodically in the skies for several days, each time circling closer and closer to the keep. Lean and driven mad from hunger, it was practically a mercy to put it down before it did something drastic and dangerous.