That catches him by surprise. Geralt looks up, head canted to the side as he watches the elf actually laugh. There's a sound in the back of his throat that might be amusement; it doesn't entirely match Estinien's level of mirth, but it's more than his typically flat disposition.
A name. One that confirms what he already knew, though he doesn't say it. Not quite an elven one by the Continent's standards, either, though it carries a similar flare. Perhaps elves across worlds aren't too different from each other. Makes him wonder if Estinien's kind thrives where he is or if humans have overrun them, too.
He pauses, then offers his hand. "Geralt of Rivia."
Habit, a bit; Rivia means nothing to anyone here, and the reality is, it means nothing to him, either. Just a name. A place that could've easily been any other. He's used it long enough, though, it sometimes feels like his own.
A moment passes before he addresses a curiosity that's been on the back of his mind, but not important enough to go out of his way to find out. Since he's got the elf's attention, though— "You, I know what you are. But your friend. Himeka. What is she?"
no subject
A name. One that confirms what he already knew, though he doesn't say it. Not quite an elven one by the Continent's standards, either, though it carries a similar flare. Perhaps elves across worlds aren't too different from each other. Makes him wonder if Estinien's kind thrives where he is or if humans have overrun them, too.
He pauses, then offers his hand. "Geralt of Rivia."
Habit, a bit; Rivia means nothing to anyone here, and the reality is, it means nothing to him, either. Just a name. A place that could've easily been any other. He's used it long enough, though, it sometimes feels like his own.
A moment passes before he addresses a curiosity that's been on the back of his mind, but not important enough to go out of his way to find out. Since he's got the elf's attention, though— "You, I know what you are. But your friend. Himeka. What is she?"