The walk to the town is refreshing. A gentle breeze carries the promise of spring, and now that the sun is higher in the sky, it's warm enough for Jaskier to shrug off his overcoat. Geralt runs ahead for a bit, then circles back and trots up to Jaskier, barking at him happily before bounding away into the bushes again.

"You're ridiculous," Jaskier says affectionately as Geralt returns to him for the sixth time, having seemingly run off most of his excess energy. He slows to a gentle lope that matches Jaskier's pace and the two of them make the rest of the trek in a comfortable silence.

It's only once they're within sight of the town that Jaskier realizes their dilemma.

"You," he says to Geralt, who has sat down on his haunches and is looking at Jaskier with his tongue lolling out one side of his mouth, "are far too big to come to the inn with me." Geralt cocks his head to one side, one ear tipping forward while the other stands straight up.

Jaskier sighs, looking down the hill with his hands on his hips. Bringing a wolf into the town is definitely not an option, no matter how well-behaved – or adorable – he is.

"You're going to have to wait here," he says as he scratches behind Geralt's ears. "Can you do that for me?" Geralt whines at him. "Well, it won't do either of us any good if I end up arrested for… honestly, I don't even know what they'd arrest me for, but it would end in trouble and I've had rather enough of that for now, haven't you?"

Geralt barks at him. "Well, of course you think that," Jaskier says, shaking his head. "You can just eat anyone who looks at you funny. I, on the other hand, cannot. See?" He bares his teeth to show Geralt the lack of sharp incisors and Geralt huffs. "Just stay here. I'll be back as soon as I have my horse."

Geralt looks puzzled as Jaskier backs up a few feet, and when he stands to follow, Jaskier sighs. "No, you can't come right now. Stay." Geralt takes another step forward and Jaskier shakes his head. "Sit," he says, but Geralt ignores the command and runs up to him instead, headbutting Jaskier happily and licking his hand.

"Geralt," Jaskier says, exasperated, and Geralt pants happily at his name. "You have to stay." He points at the ground and Geralt immediately leans down, sniffing curiously. "Of course you don't know what that means," Jaskier says, rubbing his face. "You're a wild animal."

The only experience Jaskier has with dogs is a puppy that his sister had owned when they were little, and he'd hated the thing. It was tiny and mean and had bitten him on more than one occasion. This was something entirely different.

He crouches down in front of Geralt and puts his hands on either side of the wolf's face. Geralt licks his cheek and Jaskier laughs, pressing their foreheads together. "Listen to me," he says, and surprisingly, Geralt settles down on his haunches. "Good boy. Can you stay here for me? I'll come back for you; I promise."

Geralt lets out a loud sigh and flops forward, resting his head on his legs and looking morosely up at Jaskier. "Don't look at me like that," Jaskier says, standing up and dusting the snow off his pants. "I won't be long, I swear."

Then he turns down the hill and heads into town, trying to ignore the uncomfortable ache in his chest.

Buttercup is excited to see him – as excited as a horse can be, at any rate. She nickers and headbutts him as he strokes her forehead, then pulls an apple out of his pocket and hands it to her.

"You ready to head out?" he murmurs. "You'll be surprised to hear that I made a new friend. I think you'll get along, he's nearly as stubborn as you." She makes quick work of the apple and sniffs at his pockets for more. "I'll get you another one, just let me settle everything with the innkeeper."

True to their word, the couple from the road left a debenture, and the innkeeper is quick to offer Jaskier another evening free once he sees his lute. "It's been mighty dead here lately," the man says, looking around at the handful of patrons eating their midday meal. "A bit of music ought to bring in a better crowd."

Jaskier shakes his head. "Unfortunately, I have other obligations," he says, thinking about the wolf curled up outside the town waiting for him. "Perhaps another time."

"Wait, aren't you the Witcher's bard?" The innkeeper's eyes widen in recognition and Jaskier cringes.

"I'm nobody's bard," he says, voice steady. "We don't travel together any longer. I haven't seen him in…" It takes him a second to calculate the time, and when he realizes it's been over half a year, a pang of grief fills his chest.

"Nobody has," the innkeeper says, shaking his head. "Been gone for months, now. Some folks say he got killed by a dragon."

"He wasn't killed by—" Jaskier sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What do you mean, nobody has seen him?" He shouldn't care. This isn't his problem. Geralt isn't his friend.

"Dagond said that Cegrirt heard word from a travelling merchant that the Witcher had disappeared. Folks 'ave been looking for him but he hasn't been heard from since afore the snow fell." The innkeeper looks around the room and sighs. "We was hopin' he'd turn up here soon or later. Got somethin' pickin' off the sheep up by the old farms, could use a hand takin' care of it."

"It's probably just a werewolf," Jaskier mutters. He taps his fingers on the counter, mind still stuck on Geralt is missing. "Who did you say had information on the Witcher?"

"Dagond," the innkeeper replies. "Lives up at them farms outside the town. It's his sheep what gone missin'."

Jaskier sighs. "I'll pay him a visit," he says, picking up his pack and hoisting it onto his shoulder. "And maybe I can do something about your werewolf problem while I'm there."

When Jaskier and Buttercup make it back to the hill outside town, the wolf is still waiting patiently. As soon as he sees them, he barks happily, then bounds over and starts sniffing at Buttecup. She appears nonplussed by the inspection, ignoring Geralt in favor of nosing at Jaskier's hands for more treats.

"I don't have anything else for you," he says, stroking her nose. Geralt, apparently satisfied that Buttercup means them no harm, turns to Jaskier and starts frantically wagging his tail.

"I'm very happy to see you too," Jaskier says, laughing. "I'm glad that you're not in trouble – it appears your namesake is." Geralt tips his head to the side. "Yes, I know, I'm sure he's just fine. He can handle himself, and prefers to be by himself – I'm well aware of that because he made it extremely clear the last time we spoke."

Geralt whines at him and licks his hand. "I shouldn't care," Jaskier says, voice softer. "I really shouldn't because he's a colossal twat, but he's also..." He tips his head back and stares up at the bright blue sky, willing himself not to cry. "Well, one can't stop being in love with someone just because the feelings aren't mutual, now can they?"

Geralt shifts closer and leans against Jaskier, gazing up at him with a look on his face that's somehow apologetic. "I know," Jaskier says. "Being in love with a Witcher, it's a bit ridiculous, isn't it?" Geralt huffs and Jaskier sighs, scratching behind his ears.

"Well, come on," Jaskier says, looking down the road towards the farm. "We've got werewolves to hunt and a Witcher to find."