[ There are times he misses the natural fear folk hold towards him back home. Few would confront a Witcher over his horse in the middle of nowhere, with not a town to stand behind them but only four of their own. Out here, they assume him just another human.
It is not about the stuff. But there's a difference between being robbed in the city and being robbed a day's ride out into the barren desert, horse and all. These men know that, too. The blood staining their hands tells him they do not care, and he realizes as he takes them in, one has a limp broken doll, stained red, stuffed into a bag slung over a shoulder. His eyes narrow.
He's already made his decision before any of them move. He doesn't look at Sam; in this moment, it matters not what Sam thinks or has ideas of. His instinct has turned to making sure they both return intact. He waits until he senses that shift in the air. His sword appears in his hand in a flash.
Time does not slow so much as the men simply move slow, to him. If he'd been quick before slipping between Sam's swings, he's even quicker now. He ducks a wide arc, pierces right through the soft belly, and rips downward. He's spinning before blood even finishes spilling to the ground, sinking his blade into another's leg before splitting his throat. ]
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It is not about the stuff. But there's a difference between being robbed in the city and being robbed a day's ride out into the barren desert, horse and all. These men know that, too. The blood staining their hands tells him they do not care, and he realizes as he takes them in, one has a limp broken doll, stained red, stuffed into a bag slung over a shoulder. His eyes narrow.
He's already made his decision before any of them move. He doesn't look at Sam; in this moment, it matters not what Sam thinks or has ideas of. His instinct has turned to making sure they both return intact. He waits until he senses that shift in the air. His sword appears in his hand in a flash.
Time does not slow so much as the men simply move slow, to him. If he'd been quick before slipping between Sam's swings, he's even quicker now. He ducks a wide arc, pierces right through the soft belly, and rips downward. He's spinning before blood even finishes spilling to the ground, sinking his blade into another's leg before splitting his throat. ]