For a few long moments, Geralt goes still. It's not intentional, he reminds himself-- this version of Dandelion is from some six years ago, he doesn't know. He doesn't know what happened with the Wild Hunt, has no idea that the Wolf witchers don't go back to the keep anymore because there's nothing left to return to.
Geralt pours himself more wine, then takes a long drink. It doesn't really help brace him, but it's better than nothing.
"Vesemir," he says, once he's certain that his voice will remain steady, "is dead. Kaer Morhen is uninhabitable."
Ruined beyond repair, even for witchers. With the death of Vesemir and the aftermath of the battle with the Wild Hunt, the Wolf School is truly and undeniably dead. The final nail in its already mostly buried coffin.
"I haven't had this place for very long, but it's big enough for them to overwinter, if they want to come. I sent word to them, but I doubt I'll get a reply."
It's difficult to send letters while on the Path. Now it just remains to be seen whether or not they would make the trip south and show up on his doorstep one day after the chill starts to set in. The prospect of seeing Ciri-- something that he'd been sure to include in the letters that he sent-- is a tempting draw for them. They like her, and even Lambert, grumpy fuck that he is, doesn't like to leave her disappointed.
no subject
For a few long moments, Geralt goes still. It's not intentional, he reminds himself-- this version of Dandelion is from some six years ago, he doesn't know. He doesn't know what happened with the Wild Hunt, has no idea that the Wolf witchers don't go back to the keep anymore because there's nothing left to return to.
Geralt pours himself more wine, then takes a long drink. It doesn't really help brace him, but it's better than nothing.
"Vesemir," he says, once he's certain that his voice will remain steady, "is dead. Kaer Morhen is uninhabitable."
Ruined beyond repair, even for witchers. With the death of Vesemir and the aftermath of the battle with the Wild Hunt, the Wolf School is truly and undeniably dead. The final nail in its already mostly buried coffin.
"I haven't had this place for very long, but it's big enough for them to overwinter, if they want to come. I sent word to them, but I doubt I'll get a reply."
It's difficult to send letters while on the Path. Now it just remains to be seen whether or not they would make the trip south and show up on his doorstep one day after the chill starts to set in. The prospect of seeing Ciri-- something that he'd been sure to include in the letters that he sent-- is a tempting draw for them. They like her, and even Lambert, grumpy fuck that he is, doesn't like to leave her disappointed.