From the one who cut my face. [ His teacher. The one person he truly feared, until he met Jath'ibaye. It seems almost laughable to be afraid of a man, now that his life has been held in the hands of the Rifter.
His gaze trails toward the dog's inert body, then shakes his head. ] He would've died decades ago with the others, so. [ A shrug. ] It doesn't matter now.
[ Decades ago might seem odd. His scars and tattoos might age him a bit, but without them he looks a bit younger than his actual age of early thirties.
He raises an eyebrow at Geralt, curious. ]
Why do you think you survived? [ Out of all of those boys. The many that died when he was young, and the ones after - all those medallions. He'd wondered it himself, over and over again as a child, as a young man. They told him he had god's own bones and in the same breath cursed his witch blood. He didn't understand until he met John. ]
no subject
His gaze trails toward the dog's inert body, then shakes his head. ] He would've died decades ago with the others, so. [ A shrug. ] It doesn't matter now.
[ Decades ago might seem odd. His scars and tattoos might age him a bit, but without them he looks a bit younger than his actual age of early thirties.
He raises an eyebrow at Geralt, curious. ]
Why do you think you survived? [ Out of all of those boys. The many that died when he was young, and the ones after - all those medallions. He'd wondered it himself, over and over again as a child, as a young man. They told him he had god's own bones and in the same breath cursed his witch blood. He didn't understand until he met John. ]