Geralt had been on Galador for a week and hadn't left Mar-Vell park once. He had the sense (or maybe it was just blind hope) that Ciri wasn't far and he wasn't about to abandon the only port of arrival in this strange new world. He'd been fortunate that a medic by the name of Zola had been alerted to his injury and had tended to his wound. She'd kindly seen to him twice a day until he'd reached full health and had sent a child named Erin with some food for him and his mare. Roach was alarmed by the girl at first but with assurances from Geralt that she wouldn't bite the horse calmed. While it took a while for him to warm to others (sometimes years, in Jaskier's case) he considered himself on friendly terms with the two young women, and that of the woman that found him.
He sighed heavily as he rested with his back against a large evergreen tree, his eyes starting to droop in his comfort. Just as he started to doze, Roach whinnied and his eyes snapped open and he caught a flicker of something in his peripheral vision. "What was that?" he asked, although the answer came a fraction of a second later when Yennefer of Vengerberg appeared through a portal and collapsed to her knees. Geralt quickly leapt to his feet and ran the short distance to the mage. "Yennefer! Yen, are you alright?"