[ Task completed, Geralt sheaths his sword. He calls Roach forward, strapping it back onto her saddle. She snorts in Rocket's direction—forever uncertain by his impermanent size. Each time she sees Rocket, he's a little bigger or a little smaller.
Geralt pats her. Then he looks down at the corpse, seeping blood into the ground. A beat passes. Then: ]
Do you want to bury it?
[ He usually doesn't bother, but this isn't the first time he's helped Rocket with one of his—and he senses the other occasionally has an attachment to these unwittingly spawned creations. Or...guilt, perhaps. For destroying something that never asked to be born. In a way, he understands. ]
no subject
Geralt pats her. Then he looks down at the corpse, seeping blood into the ground. A beat passes. Then: ]
Do you want to bury it?
[ He usually doesn't bother, but this isn't the first time he's helped Rocket with one of his—and he senses the other occasionally has an attachment to these unwittingly spawned creations. Or...guilt, perhaps. For destroying something that never asked to be born. In a way, he understands. ]