[ Geralt holds still like he's been frozen by Caranthir's void magic, realization and embarrassment nailing him to the spot. He's staring at nothing, some empty spot past their hands. ]
I can't force it, [ the witch says gently, her voice lowering even quieter opposed to Lambert's. ] Verbal agreement, even mental agreement, is sometimes at odds with what's within.
[ They could force it in Dorchacht, probably. He's sure there are ways.
The thought twists something in his stomach, breaks him out of that proverbial ice, and Geralt abruptly pulls his hand free from Lambert's. ]
Thank you, [ he says haltingly to the Coven witch, note of finality in his voice. She folds her own hands against her stomach and nods at him, expression a bit pained. He doesn't wait for further commentary, and bails out, without a word or look at Lambert. ]
no subject
I can't force it, [ the witch says gently, her voice lowering even quieter opposed to Lambert's. ] Verbal agreement, even mental agreement, is sometimes at odds with what's within.
[ They could force it in Dorchacht, probably. He's sure there are ways.
The thought twists something in his stomach, breaks him out of that proverbial ice, and Geralt abruptly pulls his hand free from Lambert's. ]
Thank you, [ he says haltingly to the Coven witch, note of finality in his voice. She folds her own hands against her stomach and nods at him, expression a bit pained. He doesn't wait for further commentary, and bails out, without a word or look at Lambert. ]