[ He'll check the inn. Geralt is willing to put up with much and cares little about where he sleeps normally, but he's fucking sore and he wants a bed for once.
He takes the jar, faintly amused. ] You sound like your teacher. [ He pushes to his feet, already turning to leave. ] Thank you.
[ He'll actually rest; he needs a long nap where he isn't woken up every two minutes by something skittering across the ceiling. ]
no subject
He takes the jar, faintly amused. ] You sound like your teacher. [ He pushes to his feet, already turning to leave. ] Thank you.
[ He'll actually rest; he needs a long nap where he isn't woken up every two minutes by something skittering across the ceiling. ]