[ There's a moment where he eyes the man. In theory, it is the Horizon. One can leave any time. But...
Nothing's quite right lately. He sighs. Brings his horse to the stable. She may not be real, but she's real enough. He tries not to think about it, the strangeness of the Horizon, its creations. It is what it is.
The creak of branches and groaning trees slithers into the air. His brows knit together. Is the rock troll still here? Was it ever here? (It was not.) These are questions that go unanswered, ignored as they so often are by Geralt.
Instead, he turns towards the stone arch. Whatever that sound was, it seems to have unsettled him. ] Come inside.
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Nothing's quite right lately. He sighs. Brings his horse to the stable. She may not be real, but she's real enough. He tries not to think about it, the strangeness of the Horizon, its creations. It is what it is.
The creak of branches and groaning trees slithers into the air. His brows knit together. Is the rock troll still here? Was it ever here? (It was not.) These are questions that go unanswered, ignored as they so often are by Geralt.
Instead, he turns towards the stone arch. Whatever that sound was, it seems to have unsettled him. ] Come inside.