The satisfaction of venting his emotions was brief, buried quickly beneath a new and more personal brand of anger that ignited Jaskier’s blood anew. There was supposed to be an order to things in this world, but apparently this colt had lost the memo. Glowering at the yearling from behind the disarray of his forelock, the brindle stallion wondered whether it was even worth trying to explain to someone who just didn’t get what he’d learned in a matter of days here. See, the strong like the Lagoon’s general, they could walk over anyone and everyone, though generally there were only a select few whom they even deigned to notice. Those unfortunate targets— like himself— were then entitled to crap on those weaker than them. And on and on it went until it reached the lowest links of the figurative chain, who were supposed to take the abuse in sullen silence and just deal with it.

Only this one didn’t. And for a moment, Jaskier couldn’t decide whether he should be angry about that deviation from custom... or admire it.

What the fuck are you doing out here? Okay, nevermind, he was definitely still pissed. It was undignifying enough to be a prisoner, and worse to have a boy implying that there were limits to his freedom even within the confines of his cell. “That’s none of your fucking business,” the golden stallion snarled, taking a step towards the yearling in the intent to force him back. Whatever the kid was trying, standing tall and brave like that, it might have worked in another couple seasons. But for now, at least, he was still shorter than the buckskin, if not entirely weaker. “The only thing you need to know is that this is my place. So you can scram the hell out of here.”

Perhaps he should feel bad, heaping the burden of his grievances on this kid who— as far as he could tell— was no older than his own son. And wandering alone, at that, without a mother or father who might give a damn in sight. But whatever shreds of humanity Jaskier still had were back on the shore of his old home with Enya. His feelings hadn’t mattered to Tyr when the big idiot had come stomping all over the life they’d worked together to build, so why should he care? Why should it matter to him that some bullheaded boy with scraped-up knees was looking at him like he was just as furious and hurt and done with all of this as Jaskier himself? And it didn’t matter. It wasn’t his problem, this boy wasn’t his problem. He had more than enough of those without taking on another, thank you very much.

...but, well, shit.

“I don’t belong here,” the young stallion finally explained, each syllable pulled from him as painstakingly as an embedded tooth. “And neither do you, kid. Go back to your parents. Hell, go find yourselves some new ones, because from what I see the ones you’ve got suck. But look somewhere— anywhere— else, because you won’t find even a single crumb of empathy on this side of the island.” There, it was said and done. He could only hope the little idiot would just listen to him and leave, so he could be alone with his bitterness and the growing ache above his temples.