HEART | Geralt

07

"You needed a distraction." He shrugged his shoulders before rinsing the cloth off and then further ringing it out until it was damp.

"You gonna tell me of the first monster? Or were you satisfied putting piss soaked grass in my mouth?" Azalea glared at her friend, shaking her head slightly. To stop her from moving much more, Geralt grabbed the side of her face and forced her to look in one direction and be unmoving.

"Wasn't fifty miles outside of Kaer Morhen." Geralt finally said in his gravelly voice that made Azalea shiver sometimes. With a concentrated pinch of his brow, Geralt continued to wipe away as much blood as he could from Azalea's face. "He was huge." The white-haired Witcher stood and brushed his hands off, walking towards Roach with a sad look in his eyes. "Stinking. Bald head. Rotten teeth." As he spoke, Gealt rifled through his emergency medical supplies for when he or Azalea ran out of Swallow or the White Raffard's Decoction, and grabbed the needle and thread.

"Nuh-uh, i ain't getting-"

"Azi, shut the fuck up." Geralt turned quickly and began walking towards his friend with a shake in his head.

"Oh, so fucking sorry, sir. Please continue the damn story." Azalea's patience was running thin, and she tried to move her waves of dark hair away from her face but it wasn't co-operative and therefore was annoying her further.

"He pulled that girl from the cart, tore her dress off in front of her father and said, "it's time you met a real man"." Azalea suddenly didn't feel annoyed, her eyes slightly wide and her mouth drawn into a tight line as her brows became pinched together, forheead creased. She had heard and experienced the joys from men as such as what Geralt had spoken off, but for someone else without her expertise in swordsmanship and signs and alchemy, they'd have no chance getting away.

They'd be left to have their dignity stripped from them, purely for the sake of a man getting his dick wet.

"I told him "it was time you met one, too"." Geralt had threaded the needle by now and began to sow the rather deep wound together. He knew it hurt Azalea extensively, to which he felt bad for, but he was looking out for her so he also didn't care. If this got the job done, so be it. "It took two strikes to kill him. They weren't clean. But they were spectacular."

"Bastard deserved-" a sharp hiss cut Azalea off, Geralt's needing poking her wrong. "Fuck!" Her cry of pain subsided and she took in a deep breath. "Twat."

"You're the one that pissed her off."

"Oh, i'm sorry, am i meant to ignore the shit she did? That makes her as much of a deranged monster as a rapist." Azalea growled out, about to stand and walk away. She hated snapping at Geralt in such a way as she did, for he hadn't done anything wrong, but the Witcher grabbed her arm tightly and shook his head.

"You can be pissy later, let's just get this damn face sewn together." Azalea sighed, sitting in her original space. Geralt continued his story, speaking of how the girl was terrified of him. "I thought the world needed me, too."

"We were the unlucky ones, Ger." Azalea whispered, her eyes glossing over slightly as she thought of how she and her sister had been ripped apart from each other. "The world didn't need us, but it still beckons us when they can't kill the monsters." Now that Geralt had finished sewing the wound, she stood and nodded her thanks to him before she wrapped her arms around herself and took a stroll.

The trees were endless, the crunch beneath her boot the only sound she could hear, even with her heightened senses. It was as though the forest were more desolate by the second, like something had scared all the living things away.