there was something about a steady fire that managed to ease         the dull ache that settled into his bones– or perhaps that was         just his companions carefully distilled mandrake that spread the        warmth through him, accompanied with the potent smell of herb        that came along with him. 

        their late nights usually ended this way, nostalgic and speaking of         time and events that have long since passed, geralt always found         himself instinctively withdrawing from such talk as he remembered         how sour he could be to the once barber-surgeon. nonetheless he         much preferred to listen as regis payed no mind to his silence and         continued on, speaking of the things he’s seen and done with the         fervor of a historian. 

        the witcher attempted to meet eyes with the vampire when the last         statement left his lips, searching his face to find a shred of ill feeling        under that unbothered facade regis did so well to keep. guilt seeped        into his veins and felt of ice; though he was sure among the blood         fever and other hazards that high vampires face that he had felt a         lot of pain in his life–– geralt couldn’t help but feel the weight of what        portion of it he contributed to.

        “ woah, roach. “ 

        roach slowed down to a canter as the witcher touched a hand to his         medallion, still as a stone. human? golden eyes peered out into the          thick forest, he heard nothing, and saw less - but that wasn’t unusual         for many of the things he hunted. suddenly his mount began to rear up         and he quickly pressed a hand to her head, using axii to calm the beast         before he jumped off the saddle, holding tight to her reigns in case she         spooked again. 

        the witcher pulled the mare alongside him as they entered the forest in         search of what she had heard. the contract stated drowners, not humans.         what business would humans have in their territory at this hour? bandits? 

        it took less time than he anticipated to find his answer, as within a cave         entrance barely wide enough to fit a man, echoed a familiar voice. with         a friendly nod to the watchmen he released roach at the cave mouth and         wandered in to face the back of his companion.

injury starters | accepting

         “ not anymore painful than being forced to look at you          for long periods of time. ” 

          the witcher grunted as he grasped out for the hilt of his          sword, driving the silver into the ground as he used it to          struggle back to his feet. when he began to straighten out          his body protested, joined popping loudly as he rolled them          to make sure they were still together. just when it seemed          everything was in order he felt a warm liquid touch the back          of his neck and reached a hand back to the crown of his           head. he let out a deep sigh as it immediately felt wet and           his hand came back appropriately crimson.