[ His gaze flicks towards her for a brief moment before he looks away again. For a few seconds, he's quiet. She's right. He isn't interested. Not because he doesn't want to know, but because reputation means little to him. Calanthe held a hell of a reputation, as well. Too much of one. And he remembers exactly the woman she was.
He leaves the comment unremarked upon. His silence speaks for itself. ]
Did he. [ There's a sense he's waiting for her to go on—that whatever point she's trying to reach or reason for bringing up this anecdote about Jaskier, she may as well get there sooner rather than later. He's rarely one for small talk as it is; at the moment, he's even less inclined to divert the conversation with unimportant chatter about the bard's tendency to assume any vague descriptor of a man with white hair must refer to the White Wolf he made so famous. (Geralt has his own reputation, one which also indicates not much of the truth.)
Though maybe that had something to do with her nonsensical observation about his. Hair. Should probably ask Jaskier about that. ]
no subject
He leaves the comment unremarked upon. His silence speaks for itself. ]
Did he. [ There's a sense he's waiting for her to go on—that whatever point she's trying to reach or reason for bringing up this anecdote about Jaskier, she may as well get there sooner rather than later. He's rarely one for small talk as it is; at the moment, he's even less inclined to divert the conversation with unimportant chatter about the bard's tendency to assume any vague descriptor of a man with white hair must refer to the White Wolf he made so famous. (Geralt has his own reputation, one which also indicates not much of the truth.)
Though maybe that had something to do with her nonsensical observation about his. Hair. Should probably ask Jaskier about that. ]