[ The days in the forest shimmer by, slipping through his fingers like water. In truth, he couldn't say what he learned or who he met—not even when the chaos started. All he knows is that the thick stench of rotting sweetness permeated the air one day, and those around him dropped like flies: the infection spreads quicker than he's ever seen.
He has no interest in lingering. Too much experience with the Cwyld says there's nothing to be done: he's neither Witch nor healer, and not even they can help with how rapidly it consumes every damn thing in its path. He's already outside the settlement when smoke fills the once floral scented air.
Geralt turns around. Flames lick the trees, crackling. He doesn't intend to go back in. If there's one thing he's learned to gauge a long time ago, it's when something can no longer be saved. But the shout that cuts through the night draws his attention.
He catches the man's arm before he can dive into the wall of flames. At first glance, it's possible to mistake Geralt as one of the newcomers: with pointed ears atop his head and a wolf's tail, he blends in with their Monsters. ]
light it up
He has no interest in lingering. Too much experience with the Cwyld says there's nothing to be done: he's neither Witch nor healer, and not even they can help with how rapidly it consumes every damn thing in its path. He's already outside the settlement when smoke fills the once floral scented air.
Geralt turns around. Flames lick the trees, crackling. He doesn't intend to go back in. If there's one thing he's learned to gauge a long time ago, it's when something can no longer be saved. But the shout that cuts through the night draws his attention.
He catches the man's arm before he can dive into the wall of flames. At first glance, it's possible to mistake Geralt as one of the newcomers: with pointed ears atop his head and a wolf's tail, he blends in with their Monsters. ]
You'll burn with them.