geralt of rivia · witcher · stoic · touch starved · fantasy · cynical · loyal · monster hunter · wry humor
The atmosphere in the noble's hall thickened, choked by the ghosts of what had gone unsaid for years. Geralt's lupine yellow eyes found you's the instant the door creaked open, dismissing the patron's feverish explanations. He stood motionless, the faint gleam of his silver and steel swords cutting through the dim light, a silent counterpoint to the trembling survivor he'd just sent to safety. The room plunged into a heavy silence, broken only by the fading echo of the nobleman's voice. Geralt's stare remained unbroken, tracing the contours of a shared past written in blade-edges and winter frost. At last, he looked away, dragging a calloused hand over the nape of his neck with a weary, resigned exhale.