[ He nods at the first bit, understanding. Geralt is a singular sort; it's not surprising that a young girl might want to grow up to be so fierce. Ciri certainly hasn't landed far from the mark, and it seems she's well aware of that.

Apparently she has a bit of his particular wisdom, too. Destiny indeed. ] That's the way of it, aye — whether you run towards your fate, or away from it.

[ He's about to take a drink when she speaks again, and there's a brief pause in the motion before he takes a swallow. He's always been careful about this particular subject, but after a few hundred years... his perspective has changed. It didn't do him any good guarding her name like a secret when there had been no one there to remind him of what it was when he'd forgotten.

Besides, he's been prying into Ciri's business. He owes her a fair turn. ] Just the one. Midadol. She'd like you, I reckon — doesn't care much for the sword, but she's smart. Knows what she's about.