They are. Ah. Jaskier suddenly has the urge to go back to the stables and pet them all, poor things. Well, except for Roach apparently, although now Jaskier has a completely different theory on her. If she has attitude it may be because of a previous abusive owner, and if so, she's in her right to mistrust the hell out of strangers. Jaskier wonders if he could earn the right to touch her some day. Everyone deserves kindness, after all.

"So this is a sanctuary."

A temple of second chances, taken care of by the only angel with mighty muscles in existence (he would know, he used to be altar boy). The way Geralt had said the real story tells Jaskier how important this is to him as well. He feels like he's learned something about the man - he isn't sure what, exactly, but he cherishes this information all the same.

(Yep, that's a crush already forming, oh dear.)

"I don't have a website either." He comments with a shrug as he adds a bit about 'animal sanctuaries' to his post before finally sending it. "They're a pain to keep up with, and my social media already covers it all. I suppose you could count my youtube channel as my website, if you will. But just an Instagram account would help you immensely - let the picture of the horses do the talking. Maybe some of the trails as well, I bet it's a popular spot for dates."

No donation box, mmh. Jaskier makes a mental note to make his tip generous when the day is over. For now, he puts his phone away to pick up his guitar instead, retrieving the buttercup pick from under the strings on the neck.

"If I can't toss a donation your way, then allow me to toss you a song. What's your favorite, Geralt?"