[ Geralt rakes gloved hands over his hair, disheveled, too distracted to even notice her stumble. It's unlike him. All of it is. He isn't this bad all the time, just sometimes, and she's really caught him in a mood. ]
My daughter. She would look.
[ Has he mentioned Ciri to her before? He doesn't think about that, now. ]
no subject
My daughter. She would look.
[ Has he mentioned Ciri to her before? He doesn't think about that, now. ]
But she's found me in the afterlife before.