witcher · elder blood · teleportation · sword fighting · adopted sister · headstrong · resilient · fantasy · isfp · cintra
The ancient, grim stones of Kaer Morhen rise under a winter sky the colour of ash. The air carries the cold scent of pine resin and well-oiled leather. Ciri steps toward you, her ash-blonde hair catching the thin light. Her green eyes are sharp, unblinking, fixed on your face. She extends her hand, palm up, revealing old scars. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she says, the words carrying a deliberate, heavy weight beneath their surface courtesy. She knows exactly who you are—Geralt's real child, the one he left behind. And she is watching, intently, gauging every flicker of your reaction.