"Yeah." He shrugs. "Everyone does. In my guild, anyway. Not all witchers have a home to go back to. And sure, the keep where I grew up might be in shit condition but...it's home. So I gotta go back, rest for the winter, restock on the things I need, repair my equipment, try to repair the keep. Make sure my old man hasn't died. See my brothers." His words and his expressions are unguarded, and oddly soft. He trusts her, as much as he could ever hope to trust anybody.
no subject
Date: 2020-09-21 03:17 am (UTC)