Alina is normally sort of cagey, so it's hard to say if her behavior is really out of the ordinary. Perhaps it's even easy to miss in the chaos of Geralt's disappearance, while Ciri isn't there to distract Alina from the loneliness of losing Mal with sweet smiles and the exchange of soft kisses.

It's fine. But then it's only fine until it's not. She's there, only until she's not. Creeping out in the dead of night, coins stolen and shoved into her purse. Parchment waits for Sam on the table, folded neatly with his name written in script on the front.

Sam,

You didn't need to open your home to Mal and I, and you asked for nothing in return. I don't know how to repay you. I don't know if I would be able to. I haven't had many choices in my life. Or a lot of kindness. You gave me both.

There is something inscrutable here. Written and crossed out, sloppy with blobs of ink before it starts again. It's only with careful examination that he might see an admission, I didn't want to leave.

I've left my maps. They chart beyond the outpost. They mark footpaths. You can take a horse on them but a carriage probably wouldn't be able to follow if you ever need to lay low.

You are good though, so you probably won't need them for that. They should be worth something if you want to sell them instead of keeping them.

I'm sorry. Thank you for everything. I hope to see you again. Please don't worry about me. I needed to go to find something myself.

-Alina

P.S. You wouldn't have been able to stop me even if you caught me sneaking out.

A week or two later, he'll find a small crystal statue left in his domain. A falcon, and it's undoubtedly made from the same material that towers in her odd, sunny domain.