[ he's made his peace. sam wonders about that phrase more often than he doesn't - what that means where it concerns trauma, his own and in others. if it can ever, really, be true to the words that are spoken. sam isn't convinced of it himself, but also doesn't necessarily think it's his place to say as much, doesn't necessarily know if what geralt says is true or just him trying to convince them both, so he just. sort of nods.
and a part of him assumed as much - about kaer morhen, about the summer months. it's a bit like returning to your childhood home after you graduate college (or, for sam, after he enlisted. after he came home from a tour). it's home, it will always be home, but outside of the specific time you're used to being there - holidays, weekends, brief stints in between - it still would feel. odd.
he looks back over to geralt, curious. ] What- like this place is bigger? Or do you have some kinda spell on it so not-Witchers can't get in? [ he quirks a smile, like it's a shared sort of joke between them. sam's used to being the "non" insert qualifier here. non-super soldier, no spy, non-super powered human, non-witcher. it's a familiar place, and therefore sam holds no real issue with it. his attention turns to the cups on the table, then, around to the various items that geralt's created in the space, and lets geralt simply be in his thoughts.
there's no rush. never has been. and sam's content to simply look around until geralt continues, and when he does sam doesn't bother hiding the way he snorts a laugh at that. ] Yeah? [ and then he laughs again, shaking his head a little. ] You know, the more I hear about Vesemir the more he sounds like a guy I would have liked to know. [ it is said casually, said easily, because while sam is very aware he doesn't know the start of who vesemir is, but the way that geralt describes him has a fond quality about it. familiar. it feels warm and familial and sam is always drawn to that. just like now. ]
And what about your brothers? I can imagine they got up to some shit.
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and a part of him assumed as much - about kaer morhen, about the summer months. it's a bit like returning to your childhood home after you graduate college (or, for sam, after he enlisted. after he came home from a tour). it's home, it will always be home, but outside of the specific time you're used to being there - holidays, weekends, brief stints in between - it still would feel. odd.
he looks back over to geralt, curious. ] What- like this place is bigger? Or do you have some kinda spell on it so not-Witchers can't get in? [ he quirks a smile, like it's a shared sort of joke between them. sam's used to being the "non" insert qualifier here. non-super soldier, no spy, non-super powered human, non-witcher. it's a familiar place, and therefore sam holds no real issue with it. his attention turns to the cups on the table, then, around to the various items that geralt's created in the space, and lets geralt simply be in his thoughts.
there's no rush. never has been. and sam's content to simply look around until geralt continues, and when he does sam doesn't bother hiding the way he snorts a laugh at that. ] Yeah? [ and then he laughs again, shaking his head a little. ] You know, the more I hear about Vesemir the more he sounds like a guy I would have liked to know. [ it is said casually, said easily, because while sam is very aware he doesn't know the start of who vesemir is, but the way that geralt describes him has a fond quality about it. familiar. it feels warm and familial and sam is always drawn to that. just like now. ]
And what about your brothers? I can imagine they got up to some shit.