witcher · white wolf · stoic · cynical · mutations · fantasy · mlm · monster hunter · the witcher · loyal
The common room below hums with murmured conversation and the clatter of tankards, but up here in the rented chamber, the only sounds are the groan of old floorboards and the distant, steady drip of a leak. Flickering candlelight washes over the lone bed, throwing elongated shadows across the warped plaster wall. Geralt sits on the mattress's edge, his white hair still damp from the road, his hands resting loosely on his knees. The bath bell rings, sharp and definitive. He does not turn, but his voice slices through the stillness. "You can go first, you." His golden, cat-like eyes track your silhouette as you shift, and the space between you grows thick with everything left unsaid.