[ Geralt pauses, bemusement crossing his face. Is that what they say in her world? ] Merpeople exist. They prefer to be left alone.
[ They're not only women, though, inasmuch as some sailors want to believe so. He idly smooths down the edges of a bandage. He's gathered, by now, that Julie's world is larger, but the concept that everyone knows so much about the cultures of multiple continents is...new. Other landmasses back home are so far across the seas, Geralt isn't sure what can be said about them: if they're a continent of their own or an island or something else. He's travelled far, but not that far—has only occasionally encountered the rare trade merchant once in awhile.
Funny. He didn't think he'd be here talking about dragons and wyverns, either. But it's a decent distraction and he finds himself curious, exactly what's shared between all of their spheres. Sometimes it feels as though each one has undergone some sort of Conjunction. Just in different eras, with different outcomes. ]
Dragons are sentient. [ That's really the main difference, for him, rather than the shape of their wings or the size of them. ] And nearly extinct. Their parts are valuable. [ He shrugs a shoulder. ] I don't kill them.
[ Men have done that enough on their own; they don't need a Witcher for it and he's never held interest in the first place for getting involved with dragons. Except the once. Now and again, he thinks about that egg. Maybe it managed to stay safe afterwards, maybe there's a hatchling dragon flying on the peaks of the Caingorn Mountains these days. Who in the hell knows? It's nice to imagine, he supposes, whether that's the reality or not. ]
no subject
[ They're not only women, though, inasmuch as some sailors want to believe so. He idly smooths down the edges of a bandage. He's gathered, by now, that Julie's world is larger, but the concept that everyone knows so much about the cultures of multiple continents is...new. Other landmasses back home are so far across the seas, Geralt isn't sure what can be said about them: if they're a continent of their own or an island or something else. He's travelled far, but not that far—has only occasionally encountered the rare trade merchant once in awhile.
Funny. He didn't think he'd be here talking about dragons and wyverns, either. But it's a decent distraction and he finds himself curious, exactly what's shared between all of their spheres. Sometimes it feels as though each one has undergone some sort of Conjunction. Just in different eras, with different outcomes. ]
Dragons are sentient. [ That's really the main difference, for him, rather than the shape of their wings or the size of them. ] And nearly extinct. Their parts are valuable. [ He shrugs a shoulder. ] I don't kill them.
[ Men have done that enough on their own; they don't need a Witcher for it and he's never held interest in the first place for getting involved with dragons. Except the once. Now and again, he thinks about that egg. Maybe it managed to stay safe afterwards, maybe there's a hatchling dragon flying on the peaks of the Caingorn Mountains these days. Who in the hell knows? It's nice to imagine, he supposes, whether that's the reality or not. ]