The pot, funny enough, has been empty since the moment Geralt created Kaer Morhen. He's not got any brothers to cook for, nor any that would do the cooking. In fact, he's forgotten about it until it begins to bubble and steam.
Can't deny a warm stew.
He takes another drink while Nero looks over the fire. Yeah. The telephone booth, the wildcat. He knows. ]
It isn't this place. [ He says it quietly. It's them. It's him. The Horizon simply exists to manifest through their memories and desires. For some, he supposes that means this. Confronted with what will not leave them alone. Baggage, as Nero calls it.
He blinks down at the offered bowl. Smells good. Hearty. Is Nero feeding him? He nearly shakes his head. It's nothing. It's just—it reminds him of Lambert, thrusting supper into his hands when Geralt would retreat to his room to brood as he was often accused of.
He takes it. ] Thank you.
[ He doesn't mean for the soup, though Nero can take it that way if it's easier. Silence falls as he eats; eventually, either Nero takes leaves on his own or Geralt tells him to (with some affection) get the fuck out already before vanishing upstairs. He has not gone up to his room in some time, but it's suddenly where he wants to be. ]
wrapping!
The pot, funny enough, has been empty since the moment Geralt created Kaer Morhen. He's not got any brothers to cook for, nor any that would do the cooking. In fact, he's forgotten about it until it begins to bubble and steam.
Can't deny a warm stew.
He takes another drink while Nero looks over the fire. Yeah. The telephone booth, the wildcat. He knows. ]
It isn't this place. [ He says it quietly. It's them. It's him. The Horizon simply exists to manifest through their memories and desires. For some, he supposes that means this. Confronted with what will not leave them alone. Baggage, as Nero calls it.
He blinks down at the offered bowl. Smells good. Hearty. Is Nero feeding him? He nearly shakes his head. It's nothing. It's just—it reminds him of Lambert, thrusting supper into his hands when Geralt would retreat to his room to brood as he was often accused of.
He takes it. ] Thank you.
[ He doesn't mean for the soup, though Nero can take it that way if it's easier. Silence falls as he eats; eventually, either Nero takes leaves on his own or Geralt tells him to (with some affection) get the fuck out already before vanishing upstairs. He has not gone up to his room in some time, but it's suddenly where he wants to be. ]