[ A moment passes, where Geralt looks between the two of them, faintly scrutinizing. It is not, in the end, his business whether they yield to each other or not, but neither does it get them places, becoming entangled in matters of principle which carry no easy answers. Not that he doesn't see the contention—the only reason he and Sam do not get into any debates about it is because Geralt has no desire to look for Sam, or anyone, to be convinced of nor approve of where he draws his lines. That's a decision he made for himself and himself alone, long ago; whether Sam can accept it in return is also something only Sam can decide for himself.
He knows what Sam chose, after he stumbled back from Thorne and Sam was there. Apologizing. And it does mean something to him, even if he's never quite said it out loud. He supposes he needn't, when it comes to Sam.
Probably me. Somewhere between their exchange, Geralt moved his perch from the counter to the stool. He leans forward on it now, elbows resting on his legs and still with the bottle of beer between his fingers. ]
The less we're involved, the better. [ He feels the same way. The rest of it is up to the others. Solvunn has run its territory for a long time. He doesn't trust them, but they also know this world's politics far better than any of them do. The Summoned, in the end, are outsiders. Most of whom whose loyalties are uncertain at best. The last thing any of them should do is push their way into what they cannot claim to fully understand, and then end up shouldering the blame for any consequences. Ones that will affect not only one of them. There is a ripple in the pond he can already see beginning to grow. Protect the children is as least complicated as it'll be. Where Amos is concerned, he imagines the man prefers—or perhaps needs—things as straightforward as possible.
He adds nothing else—just a flick of his gaze towards Amos that suggests the sentiment Sam offers is shared. ]
no subject
He knows what Sam chose, after he stumbled back from Thorne and Sam was there. Apologizing. And it does mean something to him, even if he's never quite said it out loud. He supposes he needn't, when it comes to Sam.
Probably me. Somewhere between their exchange, Geralt moved his perch from the counter to the stool. He leans forward on it now, elbows resting on his legs and still with the bottle of beer between his fingers. ]
The less we're involved, the better. [ He feels the same way. The rest of it is up to the others. Solvunn has run its territory for a long time. He doesn't trust them, but they also know this world's politics far better than any of them do. The Summoned, in the end, are outsiders. Most of whom whose loyalties are uncertain at best. The last thing any of them should do is push their way into what they cannot claim to fully understand, and then end up shouldering the blame for any consequences. Ones that will affect not only one of them. There is a ripple in the pond he can already see beginning to grow. Protect the children is as least complicated as it'll be. Where Amos is concerned, he imagines the man prefers—or perhaps needs—things as straightforward as possible.
He adds nothing else—just a flick of his gaze towards Amos that suggests the sentiment Sam offers is shared. ]