"Oh fine, fine," Jaskier agreed and tapped his fingers to his chin as he considered the city. There was a fine inn and stables near the University, and he'd have little trouble getting them a discount if he tried--Geralt did have a point, after all, they were here to buy a horse, not indulge in fancy dinners. He changed course as they came upon the next intersection and led them off toward the University.
The question about the horses did merit some thought.
The first horse he'd liked had been a lovely girl, dark coat and dark eyes and she didn't startle even a bit as he moved around her. Unfortunately, she'd taken his cooing and chatting with the same dispassion--not even a flick of the ears when her eyes weren't on him--he had no idea if she were hard of hearing or if she just had a tin ear (could...horses have tin ears?) but it wouldn't do.
The next had been a lovely grey gelding with a smattering of little dark spots on his face. Adorable creature, definitely given to listening and followed his voice like an orchestra followed a conductor. He got a bit twitchy and nervous when Jaskier stroked his mane for too long, though, like he was prone to being overwhelmed. He clicked his teeth and went too still and shuffled all his weight this way and that--not a good decision for a bard who followed a Witcher.
The next few had been the same--all lovely creatures...if he was a normal merchant type fellow who traveled with a regular knight down regular roads. They were nice, pretty, well bred things...sweet enough and healthy enough, but none of them looked like they'd take well to whatever strangeness the two of them got up to.
They were also very expensive.
It wasn't all his money, so little problems had to be taken into consideration.
Roach, beautiful, lovely, darling Roach, plodded along with them as they crossed the city and Jaskier turned to stroke her mane idly as they walked. She didn't jump or flinch or even look at him apart from a huff of tolerance. He would have to ply her with an apple or a sugar cube when Geralt wasn't looking.
"It's hard to say," Jaskier told the Witcher in a sort of wishy-washy sing-song and waved his free hand in the air before him. "I mean, of course, I want someone as charming and lovely as you, my dear--" he said to Roach and patted her neck. "Unfortunately, we can't all be so lucky."
The inn was ahead and the promise of dinner had a smile on Jaskier's face.
"But, you are right," Jaskier ceded to Geralt as they walked. "There were a few that had promise. I'll see how they take to a good round of traveling songs tomorrow. Can't have a horse that dislikes my singing, after all, that would be an utter tragedy!"
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The question about the horses did merit some thought.
The first horse he'd liked had been a lovely girl, dark coat and dark eyes and she didn't startle even a bit as he moved around her. Unfortunately, she'd taken his cooing and chatting with the same dispassion--not even a flick of the ears when her eyes weren't on him--he had no idea if she were hard of hearing or if she just had a tin ear (could...horses have tin ears?) but it wouldn't do.
The next had been a lovely grey gelding with a smattering of little dark spots on his face. Adorable creature, definitely given to listening and followed his voice like an orchestra followed a conductor. He got a bit twitchy and nervous when Jaskier stroked his mane for too long, though, like he was prone to being overwhelmed. He clicked his teeth and went too still and shuffled all his weight this way and that--not a good decision for a bard who followed a Witcher.
The next few had been the same--all lovely creatures...if he was a normal merchant type fellow who traveled with a regular knight down regular roads. They were nice, pretty, well bred things...sweet enough and healthy enough, but none of them looked like they'd take well to whatever strangeness the two of them got up to.
They were also very expensive.
It wasn't all his money, so little problems had to be taken into consideration.
Roach, beautiful, lovely, darling Roach, plodded along with them as they crossed the city and Jaskier turned to stroke her mane idly as they walked. She didn't jump or flinch or even look at him apart from a huff of tolerance. He would have to ply her with an apple or a sugar cube when Geralt wasn't looking.
"It's hard to say," Jaskier told the Witcher in a sort of wishy-washy sing-song and waved his free hand in the air before him. "I mean, of course, I want someone as charming and lovely as you, my dear--" he said to Roach and patted her neck. "Unfortunately, we can't all be so lucky."
The inn was ahead and the promise of dinner had a smile on Jaskier's face.
"But, you are right," Jaskier ceded to Geralt as they walked. "There were a few that had promise. I'll see how they take to a good round of traveling songs tomorrow. Can't have a horse that dislikes my singing, after all, that would be an utter tragedy!"