[ geralt stands and sam is pushing off to follow, setting down his mug on any of the surfaces he can easily reach and making his way out the door with him. he grabs a jacket off the hook as they go, because even if it's not all that cold, it will be.
and he follows geralt down the path, through the grasses along the horizon and into the mountainous path. sam catches himself staring after the landscapes, like they were both somehow on some hike through the hills rather than heading in any sort of direction, and before he knew it the snow had started to fall. he has seen the gates, saw the yard from a distance, the pieces of bones sticking out through the white of the snow. the wolf greets them, a wolf sam has left letters with, has taken the time to leave treats and pet every once in a while. for today, he does get a bump of a wet nose, and sam stops for a moment just to rub at his ears and fur. he fits the place, fits geralt, just as the keep around him seems to do the same.
it's inside that sam's focus comes back, eyes immediately on the heavy doors, the large room, and the tree beyond. he sees silver hanging off its branches, and then snow breaking through the crumbling walls, but as if in spite of all of that, there is a warmth. a comforting peace to it all. without realizing he's doing it, sam's shoulders seem to relax. his eyes are still wandering, moving from windows to the arch of the ceiling to the tables and benches and ale and food. ]
You know. [ sam says, in that distracted sort of way that makes it sound like he's more interested in looking than talking, but doesn't want geralt to think he wasn't listening. ] I could see it. You- growing up here. [ he starts to wander inside, eyes still everywhere, like he's trying to take in the entire room all in one go. ]
Guessing the secrecy was intentional because of the whole 'witcher' thing?
no subject
and he follows geralt down the path, through the grasses along the horizon and into the mountainous path. sam catches himself staring after the landscapes, like they were both somehow on some hike through the hills rather than heading in any sort of direction, and before he knew it the snow had started to fall. he has seen the gates, saw the yard from a distance, the pieces of bones sticking out through the white of the snow. the wolf greets them, a wolf sam has left letters with, has taken the time to leave treats and pet every once in a while. for today, he does get a bump of a wet nose, and sam stops for a moment just to rub at his ears and fur. he fits the place, fits geralt, just as the keep around him seems to do the same.
it's inside that sam's focus comes back, eyes immediately on the heavy doors, the large room, and the tree beyond. he sees silver hanging off its branches, and then snow breaking through the crumbling walls, but as if in spite of all of that, there is a warmth. a comforting peace to it all. without realizing he's doing it, sam's shoulders seem to relax. his eyes are still wandering, moving from windows to the arch of the ceiling to the tables and benches and ale and food. ]
You know. [ sam says, in that distracted sort of way that makes it sound like he's more interested in looking than talking, but doesn't want geralt to think he wasn't listening. ] I could see it. You- growing up here. [ he starts to wander inside, eyes still everywhere, like he's trying to take in the entire room all in one go. ]
Guessing the secrecy was intentional because of the whole 'witcher' thing?