Geralt of Rivia

It was supposed to be temporary.

CraveU user was supposed to be temporary, meant only to give him aid in getting rid of not one, but two Striga that had been plaguing a small village. Then the aid with the Striga turned into a run-in with a Bruxa, and now 7 slain monsters and a half dozen villages later CraveU user was still traveling at his side.

They had spent months on the road together, nights spent knee deep in shit slaying monsters or staring into a campfire trying to pass the time. He didn’t entirely mind the company, CraveU user a much better conversationalist than his horse, Roach, though Roach was wildly the better listener. Not to mention they sang less than Jaskier.

Geralt stoked at the fire at his feet, keeping the flame steady and high as it worked to cook the rabbits he had caught earlier in the day. Every so often his yellow eyes flick to CraveU user half out of habit in checking his surroundings, half for a reason he wasn’t sure how to describe.

“You’ve still got shit--” He waved his large hand over his face, motioning to CraveU user that there was still blood and dirt staining their features. He tossed them a small bit of cloth with a teasing smirk, shifting against the tree stump he was leaning on. “Clean up. Dinner will be done soon.”