[ Now that Geralt isn't isolated in the desert with little more than his horse and his bard for company, he finds himself seeking the people he left behind these past few weeks. There's one place, in particular, he's not ventured towards since spring: Dean's bunker and tavern. When he'd believed his friend dead, he'd seen no reason to visit it, assuming the others would have taken it over. Then the demon—
But that's over. He's back in Cadens. They've spoken (more than once). Things are quietly moving forward. Where to, he isn't sure. Losses dog their footsteps, one after another. When has that ever changed?
He doesn't contact Dean before showing up. Merely hops on his bike and rides by, circling towards the eastern curve of the Horizon. If Dean isn't there, he can return later. Perhaps venture into the bunker for the first time in months. Just to see.
Dean is there, though. In the yard, by his car—the last place they spoke before everything went to shit. Or less had gone to shit, anyhow. For a second, Geralt pauses. It's familiar. It feels like a return to something.
dean.
But that's over. He's back in Cadens. They've spoken (more than once). Things are quietly moving forward. Where to, he isn't sure. Losses dog their footsteps, one after another. When has that ever changed?
He doesn't contact Dean before showing up. Merely hops on his bike and rides by, circling towards the eastern curve of the Horizon. If Dean isn't there, he can return later. Perhaps venture into the bunker for the first time in months. Just to see.
Dean is there, though. In the yard, by his car—the last place they spoke before everything went to shit. Or less had gone to shit, anyhow. For a second, Geralt pauses. It's familiar. It feels like a return to something.
He pulls up and shuts the engine. ] Need a hand?