[ He has the good graces to wait for Dean to free himself, though he mostly just. Stands there with his arms folded. He'd help if the man were sinking, but he's not. A slight curl to his lips suggests he is notably entertained after all the flapping ahead of him Dean's been doing.

He gives a quiet huff once Dean's foot comes loose and continues on. It probably could be something he penned himself, though they're both sitting in glass houses here where poetry is concerned. He'd be surprised Dean's reciting from heart, but. He's heard the man recite multiple songs the same way. (With more enthusiasm.) ]

Something Nenneke said, when I told her I didn't see why we should give a shit about saving humans after they killed most of my kind. I'm not optimistic. [ He finally glances over his shoulder at Dean. ] And I don't believe you were optimistic, either, when you chose to befriend a Witcher. I think you saw something you don't always let yourself see.

[ He's no longer certain whether Dean is referring to the Netherfolk or the dragons, but to Geralt, the apparent symbiotic relationship Anneth hinted at makes them one and the same. He knows what it is to look at your people and realize none of you will outlast the century. That when you and your yours are gone, the world will say you had it coming—if they remember you at all. ]