[ She arrived to save his life, too, but Geralt decides not to mention it. Long fucking story. All of that. And it feels—fuck. He doesn't know. The way the memories jumble in his head...
He gives a huff. ] Was a little busy dying.
[ He grows quiet. Idly twists a dried strip of corn husk around his fingers. (Makes for a decent ribbon to tie things off with. Sturdy, flexible.) He's spoken about Visenna rarely. What reason is there to bring her up? The moment she left him, she set him on a different path. One in which she has no place.
(Except she'll always be there, in the memories he can't forget.) ]
She isn't a part of my life. [ He shrugs. ] I made my home elsewhere. Sounds as though you did, too.
[ That's all it is, isn't it? Finding your place somewhere else with the people you choose. Or who have chosen you. ]
no subject
He gives a huff. ] Was a little busy dying.
[ He grows quiet. Idly twists a dried strip of corn husk around his fingers. (Makes for a decent ribbon to tie things off with. Sturdy, flexible.) He's spoken about Visenna rarely. What reason is there to bring her up? The moment she left him, she set him on a different path. One in which she has no place.
(Except she'll always be there, in the memories he can't forget.) ]
She isn't a part of my life. [ He shrugs. ] I made my home elsewhere. Sounds as though you did, too.
[ That's all it is, isn't it? Finding your place somewhere else with the people you choose. Or who have chosen you. ]