Just like most things in the Horizon, Geralt's domain is and isn't as large as it seems. It looms, the mountains striking against the backdrop of the rest of this place, rising into view like they go on forever. But the ride is not long.
She crests a point along the path where the fortress finally comes into view. One hand lifts to shade her eyes as the light glimmers off the snow in the courtyard, catching dully on the bones rising like strange, curved and skinny trees from the ground, bleached branches reaching for the sky in a sparse and macabre forest. As Geralt rides up alongside her, he'll find Ciri sitting straight-backed on her horse, chest rising and falling rapidly with the flurry of emotions trying to push their way into her brain, where there is nothing but there should be something.
Something important. Something more.
The tears cling to her eyelashes, hot, melting the snowflakes that have begun to gently float down on them and settle on her hair and trembling hands.
She chokes, the words thick with a fervent wistfulness.
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She crests a point along the path where the fortress finally comes into view. One hand lifts to shade her eyes as the light glimmers off the snow in the courtyard, catching dully on the bones rising like strange, curved and skinny trees from the ground, bleached branches reaching for the sky in a sparse and macabre forest. As Geralt rides up alongside her, he'll find Ciri sitting straight-backed on her horse, chest rising and falling rapidly with the flurry of emotions trying to push their way into her brain, where there is nothing but there should be something.
Something important. Something more.
The tears cling to her eyelashes, hot, melting the snowflakes that have begun to gently float down on them and settle on her hair and trembling hands.
She chokes, the words thick with a fervent wistfulness.
"Oh, Geralt," she breathes. "It's beautiful."