[ A grunt comes in reply. If it's unhappy, it'll make a ruckus. That's all. Where he plans to place the bed is a preventative measure. (How is it, that this animal is getting a bed when he hasn't even got one?)
Geralt narrows his eyes at the gryphon. Fuck. Creatures bred from monsters that've torn chunks out of him have no right being so...docile.
He takes a pair of clippers and begins to trim the stems of the pile of peonies with an almost instinctive precision. Solvunn has probably had the most even bouquet stems while he was visiting their display. Geralt is nothing if not exacting in his work, no matter the task he applies himself to. ]
Ciri? You may have to wrestle her for the right to hold it. [ Ciri will be delighted. He knows her. ] And that is a battle you will lose.
no subject
Geralt narrows his eyes at the gryphon. Fuck. Creatures bred from monsters that've torn chunks out of him have no right being so...docile.
He takes a pair of clippers and begins to trim the stems of the pile of peonies with an almost instinctive precision. Solvunn has probably had the most even bouquet stems while he was visiting their display. Geralt is nothing if not exacting in his work, no matter the task he applies himself to. ]
Ciri? You may have to wrestle her for the right to hold it. [ Ciri will be delighted. He knows her. ] And that is a battle you will lose.