[Alucard lets the discussion about Jaskier and the greater arc of what happened in his and Geralt's sphere go for now. He'll ask again later, maybe, when the time feels more correct. He isn't sure when that might be, but clearly this is not the correct moment. Instead, Alucard's gaze is entirely on the fire now, the flames casting reds and yellows against his too pale skin.]

Here holds far fewer expectations and permits a certain luxury of anonymity. The most people do on my doorstep now is come to pay respects to the dead. They don't even know I'm there.

[An all together far more agreeable existence than being The Alucard and everything going to shit from that.

For a moment, Alucard's eyes flick skyward. He considers. Then stands.]

Excuse me for a while. I'd like to take advantage of the open space.

[He's a wolf before he even leaves Geralt's sight, and then gone a few moments later in a flash of white fluff. He moves some ways out though before this next part. Alucard's come to assume that Geralt's hearing is no less sharp than his own, and it's going to just suck so much if he's close.

There's a sudden, sharp howl from the direction Alucard departed in. Then another. A third. It becomes a full performance, with responses from what may be coyotes even further away.]