[ His eyes linger on the hand that's captured by Jaskier and he doesn't lift it when Jaskier presses that kiss to his cheek. Does he get a choice in the matter here? What if he chose to wallow in misery for another night? His shoulders sag and it takes until Jaskier's already a few steps away, the break in their touch, for Dylan to work up enough courage to say what he has to say. ]

Look. You don't have to keep hanging around me out of pity or something. Like some gangly stray mutt you keep feeding. Only turns out that gangly mutt is pretty fucking feral and will definitely bite the hand that feeds it. And why stop at the hand when it can go for the throat, too?

[ He gets a bit queasy thinking about it and grasps the banister to steady himself. ]

I'm a monster, Jaskier. And maybe I killed some things, too. I don't know. There were a whole lot of parts and blood around that clearing when I came to in the morning.

[ And Dylan wasn't exactly keen to ask Geralt for the deets, mostly because part of him didn't want to know what happened. Ignorance in this case was bliss. But ignorance also ate at his conscience for the past couple days and haunted his dreams at night. He sighs. ]

Who wants to be around something like that?