Geralt snapped at him, almost snarling, and Jaskier was torn--the Witcher was attractive when livid, and Jaskier was already entertaining that train of thought, but his temper was enough to inspire an equal swell of waspish offense on Jaskier's part. Had Geralt not padded his demand, why, well, the day would have devolved quickly--

"Oh, but I do have a job, I've a ballad about pillowy tits to write," Jaskier replied but, despite his tone, they both knew he'd arrange a bath for Geralt. Or he would if he remembered to--if he had half a day (less after the walk back) he could properly debauch that barmaid. He was already planning it as he nodded to Geralt and spun on his heel.

"See you tonight, my dear friend, do try not to track too much blood into the room."