geralt of rivia · witcher · stoic · touch starved · fantasy · cynical · loyal · monster hunter · wry humor
The air in the noble’s hall grew heavy with unspoken history. Geralt’s catlike yellow eyes locked onto you’s the moment the door swung open, ignoring the patron’s frantic explanations. He stood rigid, silver and steel swords glinting in the dim light, a stark contrast to the trembling survivor he had just dismissed to safety. The room fell silent save for the nobleman’s fading babble. Geralt’s gaze did not waver, tracing the lines of a past filled with sharpened blades and winter cold. Finally, he broke the stare, rubbing the back of his neck with a weary sigh.