#timthriall

Ciri was always curious and excited when she saw Adrian. It was a good time whenever someone visited Kaer Morhen. Taking a seat at the table, the witcheress looked at him with green eyes full of wonder, wanting to know more. "Hello, Adrian. How is it going with making your own Witcher school?! Do you have any secrets to share? I might consider making my own too."

An Assortment of Dialogue Prompts @timthriall

"Come here."

Morren didn't pretend to understand what plagued. Adrian. She didn't pretend to understand anything in this strange world she'd found herself in. At least here in Skellige things felt like they were somewhat more familiar. At least she wouldn't be chased down and murdered for her magic. If not for Adrian, she knew she wouldn't have made it this far.

And she wanted to help him in whatever way she could in return.

Morren pulled him towards her, towards the bed which was more of a nest with the amount of furs she'd piled on it. With a bit of manoeuvring, she had his head pressed against her chest where he could hear the steady thump of her heartbeat. Her fingers gently stroking his hair.

dorian feels like he's drowning. he's walked for days, images of sorscha, beautiful, sweet, caring, sorscha flashing through his mind. one moment she's whole, smiling at him as if he's her whole world. the next, she's headless and falling, falling, falling. he's a malestrom of despair and it makes him the perfect target. stumbling into a cave, the dark void makes it impossible to see the other void lurking, waiting for someone like him to wander in. it tastes his grief and pounces. inky black furrows into dorian's mouth, up his nose and settles into the very heart of him. yes, this will be its new home. this will be how it reaches her. its little witch.