[ He makes another amused noise. Sometimes he isn't sure he'll ever be used to it, interacting with those who haven't any notion of what a Witcher is, who exist entirely outside the stories and rumours of his kind. Who will say these things to him with an odd sincerity. Who will sew him up without asking for anything in return.
His back is lit on fire by the time she's finished. He's almost hesitant to move, every inch of him unwilling. But he's no longer spilling blood out of open wounds, so that's an improvement. ]
I'm not going anywhere. [ There's a promise in those words. He can't, even if he were to want to. Julie had hauled him up those stairs and he's fairly certain he'll never make it down them on his own.
no subject
His back is lit on fire by the time she's finished. He's almost hesitant to move, every inch of him unwilling. But he's no longer spilling blood out of open wounds, so that's an improvement. ]
I'm not going anywhere. [ There's a promise in those words. He can't, even if he were to want to. Julie had hauled him up those stairs and he's fairly certain he'll never make it down them on his own.
He pauses, before adding, ] Thank you.