[ Yeah. There's that, too. A bitterness that blooms into hate or fear or both. The humans did destroy most of his kind. But his own were not exactly innocent before or afterwards. It isn't that he thinks they deserve to be hated in turn—only a recognition that it all runs in a sort of cycle. He's thought, often, that humans told themselves Witchers felt nothing because they were afraid of what they would feel if they could.
His gaze flicks up, somehow a little surprised by the question. He studies Dean in return and wonders if that's what he saw in someone close to him. His father, wasn't it? That lost their mother to a demon? ]
I was. [ His answer comes without pause. It's something he accepted about himself a long time ago. ] I moved on.
[ Mostly. If he digs deep, it's still there. He's not certain it ever entirely goes away. ]
Besides, could be worse. Could've been assigned to a life sorting grain in some backwater hamlet.
[ There are few upsides to what they do, but it isn't entirely void of them. Most live and die where they're born. They don't get to hop on a horse and go see the mountains any time they want. ]
no subject
His gaze flicks up, somehow a little surprised by the question. He studies Dean in return and wonders if that's what he saw in someone close to him. His father, wasn't it? That lost their mother to a demon? ]
I was. [ His answer comes without pause. It's something he accepted about himself a long time ago. ] I moved on.
[ Mostly. If he digs deep, it's still there. He's not certain it ever entirely goes away. ]
Besides, could be worse. Could've been assigned to a life sorting grain in some backwater hamlet.
[ There are few upsides to what they do, but it isn't entirely void of them. Most live and die where they're born. They don't get to hop on a horse and go see the mountains any time they want. ]