Geralt tilts his head. It isn't something he's thought of about himself, but he won't reject it, either. It's easy to know where you belong once you accept that that place is nowhere. Then you simply carve out your corner and tell the rest of the world to fuck off. Perhaps that's why his forest manifests as it does—impermanent on the land but forever attached to his feet.
His breath frosts on the air. Whoever this might be, they're hardly the first or the last to close themselves off from grief and heartache. ]
I don't recall my mother's face anymore. I do remember the pain of her leaving. [ It reminds him of the one thing he never wants Ciri to feel. ] Is it about the pain or the face?
no subject
Geralt tilts his head. It isn't something he's thought of about himself, but he won't reject it, either. It's easy to know where you belong once you accept that that place is nowhere. Then you simply carve out your corner and tell the rest of the world to fuck off. Perhaps that's why his forest manifests as it does—impermanent on the land but forever attached to his feet.
His breath frosts on the air. Whoever this might be, they're hardly the first or the last to close themselves off from grief and heartache. ]
I don't recall my mother's face anymore. I do remember the pain of her leaving. [ It reminds him of the one thing he never wants Ciri to feel. ] Is it about the pain or the face?