Promise | Geralt Of Rivia

Promise

There is a small pause, then Geralt lifts an eyebrow at Lucja and awaits the catch that follows that simple word.

"I do agree that it sounded better in my head, but oh, don't feel flattered," she says pointedly as she begins to walk in the direction where she'd left her buckskin gelding to relax, hanging by Geralt's sleepy mare in the shade of trees.

Geralt nods his head as they draw near to the the shade of a spruce with leaves the color of fire. He grips the pommel of his saddle and mounts Roach, turning her away from her new friend and forcing her to finish chewing whatever grass was left sticking from the corners of her mouth.

Lucja swiftly vaults onto Glidain's back, a sudden movement which he had yet to grow more accustomed to. She digs her heels into her horse's sides and quickly catches up with Geralt, relaxing and letting their horses walk side by side at a relaxed gait.

His raspy voice breaks the momentary silence as their mounts got in beat with each other. "You know, that rusalka was mine."

"You've said that twice, and if you're expecting a thank you for helping me live, then here it is: thank you. For your information, I was also offered to kill it."

"I say we still go collect the gold from its prospective owners, unless they are the same man."

"Good idea," she laughs, though it she'd already been thinking of the same thing.

"Where to?"

"Novigrad. Need to pick up a few things at the blacksmith, as well as get myself a new mask tailored."

She throws Geralt an accusing look, which he halfheartedly takes and the corners of his mouth just barely twitch skyward.

"What about you?"

"The man who asked for my aid lives in a village not too far from Novigrad. That aside, my work is done for the time being, and so I thought to go back to civilization. It often gets boring and lonely when it's only you, Roach and a banshee if you're lucky."

"Geralt."

"What?"

"Both of us are aware that's a lie. I know you better than this."

The witcher doesn't show any signs of being surprised at her observations, but neither shows any signs that would tell her she made the wrong assumption. Deciding to give up her silent pressure for the truth, she jerks out of a thoughtful state when Glidain rears at a rabbit hopping across his path.

"How can one's horse be so anxious?" Geralt asks, and it bothers her as to how close he sounds to laughter.

"You think I would know? His previous owner didn't either, but I was desperate. A spirited guy, I'll give him that. Breaking him was an absolute nightmare."

Another moment of silence hangs between them, less tense and awkward than the previous, before being broken by Geralt once again.

"You're troubled."

His companion looks over. "What makes you say that?"

"Your horse. It's not calm and is trying to slip away from your unsteady hand. What's bothering you?"

"Just thinking."