Jaskier leaves his things in the room, setting his bag on the table and his instrument case on one of the chairs. It's covered in a bunch of bright stickers, the kind that Ciri would probably like, including a little Beatles yellow submarine and a Queen quote, all references that he gets. He recognizes the little blue alien thing from that one Disney movie, and there's... a square with some stripes? Maybe it's a flag. He doesn't recognize the color pattern; it's probably not a country, but he seems young enough that he isn't long out of college, so maybe it's a student organization?

Whatever. Probably doesn't matter. He doesn't really care what affiliations this guy likes to put on his cases or laptop or whatever, he cares about whether he knows his ass from a hoof pick. Whether he can trust the guy alone with his horses for five minutes or if he's going to have to babysit him through getting a saddle on.

The city boy expresses interest in riding Pegasus, and that's not the worst choice that he could make. Pegasus is even-tempered and quite gentle, and was one of the curious horses that had poked his head out when they came in. Generally friendly. Geralt nods, approving of his choice, though even if Jaskier had chosen poorly, he still probably would've let him try-- if only to see him bite off more than he could chew.

"Get him on a lead and get him tacked up. I want to see you in the indoor arena."

And Geralt planned to watch him through the process, to see just how much he bumbled and how much he actually knew. This is the practical exam, Jask, try to take it seriously.