[ Hey, she can look at him with something that isn't disdain or murder in her eyes. Who knew? He quirks a grin at the magic that turns her clothing more travel suited and irritatedly makes note that he's going to have to do a glamour if he's going to blend in here.
Bollocks. ]
Never heard of it. I'm not sure what went wrong with my portal. Like I said, I was a bit desperate and needed to get that bastard off my arse.
[ He gives a low whistle of approval when her portal appears. Grade A magic right there. ]
Lead on. Least you can do is give over a name. I gave you mine, after all.
[This is just her way. He'll find that she is quite prone to her moods. Dressed and with the airs of a lady, yes. She will not suffer fools and be meek as expected.]
We're outside of Novigrad. Does that ring a bell?
[Who knows. Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn't. If he doesn't know the name of the known world how could he know the name of the city?]
Yennefer of Vengerberg. And from where is it that you come from, John?
[The moment he steps through, she follows. They are suddenly in a market place. The inn is far down the road behind them.]
I've never heard of such places. Beyond the sea then? Farther?
[The sea is enormous, long past Skellig. She pulls an apple from her bag.]
John of Georgia or John of Earth...whatever or wherever, best stay close else you and your tastes offend someone. I can try and fashion another portal, this one just for you. Best done out of sight.
[Which is why she is heading farther from town. Also knowing full well Geralt is working in the forest. The plan was to meet. No time like the present she supposes. John gets a sideways glance.]
[ Get used to the sarcasm while he's here. It's not going anywhere so long as he's clinging on as he is. ]
Just John. [ He gives a brief sigh at the bit of attention his garb is getting versus hers. When he's sure no one is paying too close attention he whispers an incantation quickly. A wave of his hand and his garb is considerably outside of his usual fashion tastes but it fits well with where they are. ]
Ta for that. I'll be glad to be out of your hair as soon as I'm able.
[Being alive as long as she has, this is not the first or last time a person has been sharp with words. While annoying, it's harmless. Yennefer says absolutely nothing but gives him a thin smile.]
As you wish Just John.
[He brought that on his fucking self. And the change in air makes her spare a glance.]
That's an improvement.
[Another bite of her apple.]
Mages in your realm, they're of a different color I see. This is your chosen form.
[Not just in fashion. In practice and self. Yennefer picks up her skirts and steps from the road, trusting John to follow.]
[ He's only got the one lifetime under his belt. He does have travel through multiple dimensions, though. It's a useful trick in his line of work.
He shakes his head and gives a rough chuckle at her way of jabbing at his ribs. Downright gentle compared to earlier. ]
I'm only doing so as not to draw more attention than I already have. I'm not about to ditch my clothes cause I'm not staying long.
[ He spares a glance around as they go. What a strange place. How come this is the first time he's ever run into it? Why now?
What do you mean by that? Are there lots of mages round these parts?
[ Just the way she handles herself? There aren't a lot of magic users like him in his world. There's a few, sure, and a couple up-an-comings. It's not a well-known sort of thing. ]
[Though that's not at all what she would call finery, let alone worth keeping. Just her humble opinion.
The taller grass gives away to trees, not just some trees. A whole forest. Bird song in the air, rushing water not too far. Yennefer pauses to listen. No cries or screams, no thrashing or clanging of a blade. Geralt must be down stream.]
A fair amount, yes. The Nifgaardian war has put a stop on education and some have chosen to go into hiding than choose sides.
[Hide like rats, fight like warriors or twiddle their thumbs and pretend that matters of the realm hold no importance. She would have been the latter if it weren't for Tissaia.]
But what I meant was you chose to look so young, doesn't that make it challenging to gain confidence of your kings and lords? Or do you serve no one?
[ The enchantments and magic in it isn't just from him. It has a magic all it's own. He'll be damned if he's gonna part with it. She can have her opinion and her mitts off his clothes.
Even if he's not dressed in the slightest for a hike. Bloody hell. ]
What? You have schools for it here? [ Sounds like Harry Potter. Best not bring that into it. ] That's nifty.
[ Another grin and it finally becomes clear what she's asking. ]
So young? Well I can't help how I age, can I? I don't serve anyone but myself. Not keen on being put under anybody's heel.
[One of a kind? That thin thing? Could belong to a beggar or be a first draft for what could be a fine coat. No padding, no lining. Does it even provide warmth at all? At least now with his mock up the fashion he's decently equip.
Passing through the trees there's a clearing ahead. That will do well for a portal and to set up camp to wait for the witcher.]
A school. It has its purpose, though not for education. For politics more than anything.
[There's no fondness for it in her heart if she were honest. Yennefer learned so much and suffered so greatly. Now here she is. Which is also what adds to her surprise.]
You didn't undergo any transformation? No schooling either.
[ That disdain is as easy to pick up on as a smack to the face. He wears layers! It works just fine when he isn't having to traipse through the bloody forest that time forgot. ]
Doesn't sound like a thing you're keen on remembering. I'm not overly fond of politics myself.
[ These woods, though, they have an odd feeling to them. Like there's something lurking, he can feel it. Won't quite shake off. ]
We don't have schools. [ At best you might find an old school type that'll take you on as an apprentice but that is a dying art in and of itself. ] I taught myself.
[ He's distracted still by the ill sensation around them. What is that? His gut serves him well. So sue him if he tenses up when she gets close enough to inspect his features. ]
[Whatever place he is from it seems so terribly backwards. No schools to educate the magical, so no standardization of magic practices. True chaos. Would that be a bad thing? Yennefer has wondered if she were left alone what she could have been able to accomplish. She would not have had the long, long life that she has nor the body to be able to pass through all manner of society.
Yennefer stares into John's face, over his brow, his eyes. Fine lines though none so deep just yet. Her own face will never be much older than twenty.]
It is custom to take on appearance for your practices in the world. Men usually choose beards, height and wrinkles. Whatever color you fancy. All together going for a more wise looking, more worldly face so as to command respect.
[That unease might be Geralt's quarry. Or the wood and it's secrets.]
Image in of itself is a kind of political ground. We are taught it's value.
[ They seem to get by well enough on their own as it stands. Of course, there are rogues like Faust. Dark magic users who John has run toe to toe with more than one time in his life so far. Sacrifices he's made. Me or magic, John.
For all the hell he gave Gaz about the junk---there he was, a hopeless addict. Addicted to magic. To power. There's nothing like it. It took that daft, worthless feeling boy from the Pool and made something more of him. It was his salvation. ]
Told you, we don't do that where I'm from. Some like to put on airs and glamours but I've never been keen on it. This is who I am, take it or leave it.
[ A soft ha at the idea of respect. Not likely to be something he ever gets. Papa Midnite loves to tell him how he is a thief of tradition and all manner of other unsavory things. ]
I do what I do and if somebody doesn't like the way I look while doing it they can piss off.
[While he has said that no, he doesn't do glamour or charm his image, he changed his clothes. More than that while his face is youthful his eyes are deep, older. Perhaps a might haunted. That's where her eyes meet his before pursing her lips to step back.]
I see. That is how it should be. Just... unexpected to hear.
[Yennefer tilts her head. The wind blows and trees crunch.]
Many things. Wolves, slyvans, dryads.... I suspect a spriggan given how long it's taking. Are you afraid, Just John? The only thing more dangerous here is the Witcher. We'll be fine.
[ No, he doesn't. He likes his look and the way he looks. Sure, he's done glamour spells more than a handful of times but he's not keen on it unless it is to gain something. Or slip by unnoticed. As far as the eyes, they are. Haunted, that is. Guilt is something he carries with him always, hidden under that arrogance. ]
Sounds like you could do with a change of scenery then.
[ This forest feels old. Older than any place he's visited on his world. Like it has eyes and more. There's inherent magic to it and he can feel it licking at his aura. ]
I'm not afraid. Seen far worse than your spriggan. Just feels strange is all. I've never been to a place like your Continent before.
[ John casts off the glamor. If they are to send him back then he can't wander back through a portal looking like a Ren Faire reject. Though her comment earns a soft laugh. ]
Wouldn't want to ruin your company. And if they're missing me then we are in a bad way.
[ There's a softer look that does imply that someone would be missing him. John would be missing them as well. Quick jaunt to another dimension is one thing. He's not keen on staying when he's got such good company back in the Big Apple. ]
You're from here. [ Countered. ] I dunno. Feels almost familiar.
And don't worry that bastard nor any of his friends will come bother the likes of you and yours once you get me out of your hair. Anyways, Hell isn't keen on sending more people to wind up bested by me so soon. Even they have limits and rules for their one-off fights.
There are enough wild things to deal with as it stands.
[And they handled it well enough. John was comfortable in such a scrap so it must be true.]
Charming, alas we must part. Yes. Given that you are not from a place I have seen, may I see it in your thoughts? That will ensure accuracy. Take my hand.
[Offering it out, this would be the first time they touch, wouldn't it?]
[ He's had many a scrap with a low-level demon looking to rise in the ranks. He's tussled with one or two higher ones as well. Nergal was the one that got him better at what he does. His refusal to fail another child as he did with Astra. ]
Don't sound so broken up about it.
[ A gentle tease. They can do that, right? Not much better bonding than fighting a demon and running from angry, drunk locals. He nods and takes her hand.
As soon as their hands clasp it's like a connection flairs to life like a lightning bolt straight out of the sky. It's quick and forceful to a point that all John can do is ride it out. He can't even think of tamping down his mental shields to try and keep her out.
Claws and blue fire. A dark door opens. Natalie. Alex. Astra. John, get me out of here! It's magic or me. You can't save her. John finally has enough presence of mind to break the connection and stumbles back a step or two, reeling from the magic still strong around them. ]
Something tells me that you are used to the sound of weeping women and bittersweet farewells.
[Her eyes are dry and the moment before contact, Yennefer is even smiling. The touch and her posture straightens. Violet eyes widen and her mouth drops open. Usually when she taps into minds it's like reading a sign. A door has flung open and pulled her into darkness to watch a staging of events whirl around her. The force has blown back the dirt, dry leaves and branches from where they stand to clear the forest floor.
She can't catch her breath but blink. Screaming, crying, names, voices, the smell like before only acrid. Yennefer blinks and her heart beats so hard it hurts.]
I don't--that wasn't what I wanted.
[Both hands clasp over her heart and her eyes harden to look at him. Opening her mouth but no words come out.]
[ The flashes he gets from her are just as strong as those she gleaned from him. Broken mirror. Screaming. Fire. Sisters. When he comes out of it with his head clearing, there is dirt blown back from their connection. Leaves are still falling from being blown off the trees. Some of the trunks nearest to them are busted or cracked.
His breathing is ragged and his voice shakes. ]
Not what I was after either. I don't---I've never had that happen before.
[ But Geralt who was coming up just outside of the scene has. It happened with Pavetta in the grand hall of Cintra. It's old magic. Primal and chaotic.
But he has bigger problems than that currently. His quarry is dead but he is in little better shape. ]
You've made a friend I see.
[ Because dry humor is the way to go when one is in a bad way. ]
[Yennefer closes her eyes and wills herself to stand straighter again. Out of the past, safe and removed from what came before. She's a powerful sorceress not a pig farmer's daughter.]
You and your magic--[she can't complete her thought. It's just as well. It was not kind at all. Seeing him in such a state has helped her find her strength.] Nevermind that. Geralt, you must sit.
[John gets a solid stare as she grabs her bag and comes closer. Wet with river water, mud and blood she needs to see where to start.]
[ John takes a few moments to gather his wits and protections about him again. A muttered bit of spellwork and he feels more level-headed again. Leastways until the big, brooding sort stumbles in. ]
John. [ He sniffs and keeps his face impassive. There is little about him that is just anything if his keen senses are anything to go off of. He sits heavily and works on getting his armor out of the way. His movements are slow and sluggish.
John moves over to give a hand. ]
I can help. I'm pretty good in a pinch.
[ Geralt fumbles with a small bag that holds vials of his potions and it makes a clinking sound that proves the last hit that threw him into a tree did, in fact, break them. Damn.
If Yenn trusts this man then he sees no reason why he shouldn't. He lets him take the satchel from him. ]
What was it that you fought, Geralt? Spriggan? A werewolf?
[Something with talons or claws that catch and the ability to fling him about like a rag doll. There's blood in his hair and a spool of woven cotton comes up, a bottle of vodka too.]
Take care. There are more hands now than usual, you have no need to strain.
[Which is far removed from how she has been speaking to John. Her face falls listening to the glass tinkle.]
I could have held those.
[Yennefer still being Yennefer.]
John, you're fond of introductions. Geralt of Rivia, the white haired witcher. He has other titles and hates them all.
[ John carefully works on laying open the bag as Geralt lets Yennefer help him with his armor. His head throbs as his side does. It was a hard battle but he bested the beast. ]
I didn't expect to need you to.
[ He admits.
John offers a quirk of a smile at the introduction. ]
Can't say I blame you, mate. I've gotten called loads of thing. Many of them true, mind, but that doesn't mean I prefer them.
[ Contents laid out on the ground next to them, John waves a hand and focuses his magic. Uttered spellwork falls effortlessly from his lips and the bottles begin to repair themselves with their mixtures still intact. After it is done, he looks to the Witcher. ]
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Bollocks. ]
Never heard of it. I'm not sure what went wrong with my portal. Like I said, I was a bit desperate and needed to get that bastard off my arse.
[ He gives a low whistle of approval when her portal appears. Grade A magic right there. ]
Lead on. Least you can do is give over a name. I gave you mine, after all.
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We're outside of Novigrad. Does that ring a bell?
[Who knows. Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn't. If he doesn't know the name of the known world how could he know the name of the city?]
Yennefer of Vengerberg. And from where is it that you come from, John?
[The moment he steps through, she follows. They are suddenly in a market place. The inn is far down the road behind them.]
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Not in the slightest.
[ He squints at the bright light as they end up out in broad daylight. Middle of some dusty town square from what he can tell. He shakes his head. ]
Yennefer. I come from Earth. Assorted places there about. I live in a place called Georgia, currently.
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[The sea is enormous, long past Skellig. She pulls an apple from her bag.]
John of Georgia or John of Earth...whatever or wherever, best stay close else you and your tastes offend someone. I can try and fashion another portal, this one just for you. Best done out of sight.
[Which is why she is heading farther from town. Also knowing full well Geralt is working in the forest. The plan was to meet. No time like the present she supposes. John gets a sideways glance.]
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[ Get used to the sarcasm while he's here. It's not going anywhere so long as he's clinging on as he is. ]
Just John. [ He gives a brief sigh at the bit of attention his garb is getting versus hers. When he's sure no one is paying too close attention he whispers an incantation quickly. A wave of his hand and his garb is considerably outside of his usual fashion tastes but it fits well with where they are. ]
Ta for that. I'll be glad to be out of your hair as soon as I'm able.
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As you wish Just John.
[He brought that on his fucking self. And the change in air makes her spare a glance.]
That's an improvement.
[Another bite of her apple.]
Mages in your realm, they're of a different color I see. This is your chosen form.
[Not just in fashion. In practice and self. Yennefer picks up her skirts and steps from the road, trusting John to follow.]
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He shakes his head and gives a rough chuckle at her way of jabbing at his ribs. Downright gentle compared to earlier. ]
I'm only doing so as not to draw more attention than I already have. I'm not about to ditch my clothes cause I'm not staying long.
[ He spares a glance around as they go. What a strange place. How come this is the first time he's ever run into it? Why now?
What do you mean by that? Are there lots of mages round these parts?
[ Just the way she handles herself? There aren't a lot of magic users like him in his world. There's a few, sure, and a couple up-an-comings. It's not a well-known sort of thing. ]
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[Though that's not at all what she would call finery, let alone worth keeping. Just her humble opinion.
The taller grass gives away to trees, not just some trees. A whole forest. Bird song in the air, rushing water not too far. Yennefer pauses to listen. No cries or screams, no thrashing or clanging of a blade. Geralt must be down stream.]
A fair amount, yes. The Nifgaardian war has put a stop on education and some have chosen to go into hiding than choose sides.
[Hide like rats, fight like warriors or twiddle their thumbs and pretend that matters of the realm hold no importance. She would have been the latter if it weren't for Tissaia.]
But what I meant was you chose to look so young, doesn't that make it challenging to gain confidence of your kings and lords? Or do you serve no one?
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[ The enchantments and magic in it isn't just from him. It has a magic all it's own. He'll be damned if he's gonna part with it. She can have her opinion and her mitts off his clothes.
Even if he's not dressed in the slightest for a hike. Bloody hell. ]
What? You have schools for it here? [ Sounds like Harry Potter. Best not bring that into it. ] That's nifty.
[ Another grin and it finally becomes clear what she's asking. ]
So young? Well I can't help how I age, can I? I don't serve anyone but myself. Not keen on being put under anybody's heel.
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[One of a kind? That thin thing? Could belong to a beggar or be a first draft for what could be a fine coat. No padding, no lining. Does it even provide warmth at all? At least now with his mock up the fashion he's decently equip.
Passing through the trees there's a clearing ahead. That will do well for a portal and to set up camp to wait for the witcher.]
A school. It has its purpose, though not for education. For politics more than anything.
[There's no fondness for it in her heart if she were honest. Yennefer learned so much and suffered so greatly. Now here she is. Which is also what adds to her surprise.]
You didn't undergo any transformation? No schooling either.
[She turns to look at him, really look at him.]
This is your face? Your eyes? Everything?
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[ That disdain is as easy to pick up on as a smack to the face. He wears layers! It works just fine when he isn't having to traipse through the bloody forest that time forgot. ]
Doesn't sound like a thing you're keen on remembering. I'm not overly fond of politics myself.
[ These woods, though, they have an odd feeling to them. Like there's something lurking, he can feel it. Won't quite shake off. ]
We don't have schools. [ At best you might find an old school type that'll take you on as an apprentice but that is a dying art in and of itself. ] I taught myself.
[ He's distracted still by the ill sensation around them. What is that? His gut serves him well. So sue him if he tenses up when she gets close enough to inspect his features. ]
Yeah, all mine. What else would I be wearing?
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Yennefer stares into John's face, over his brow, his eyes. Fine lines though none so deep just yet. Her own face will never be much older than twenty.]
It is custom to take on appearance for your practices in the world. Men usually choose beards, height and wrinkles. Whatever color you fancy. All together going for a more wise looking, more worldly face so as to command respect.
[That unease might be Geralt's quarry. Or the wood and it's secrets.]
Image in of itself is a kind of political ground. We are taught it's value.
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For all the hell he gave Gaz about the junk---there he was, a hopeless addict. Addicted to magic. To power. There's nothing like it. It took that daft, worthless feeling boy from the Pool and made something more of him. It was his salvation. ]
Told you, we don't do that where I'm from. Some like to put on airs and glamours but I've never been keen on it. This is who I am, take it or leave it.
[ A soft ha at the idea of respect. Not likely to be something he ever gets. Papa Midnite loves to tell him how he is a thief of tradition and all manner of other unsavory things. ]
I do what I do and if somebody doesn't like the way I look while doing it they can piss off.
[ That unease is growing. ]
Do you know these woods? What's here with us?
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I see. That is how it should be. Just... unexpected to hear.
[Yennefer tilts her head. The wind blows and trees crunch.]
Many things. Wolves, slyvans, dryads.... I suspect a spriggan given how long it's taking. Are you afraid, Just John? The only thing more dangerous here is the Witcher. We'll be fine.
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Sounds like you could do with a change of scenery then.
[ This forest feels old. Older than any place he's visited on his world. Like it has eyes and more. There's inherent magic to it and he can feel it licking at his aura. ]
I'm not afraid. Seen far worse than your spriggan. Just feels strange is all. I've never been to a place like your Continent before.
[ Somehow it feels like it should be familiar. ]
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[She sets the leather bag down.]
Shall I try and send you back now? I'm expecting company. And I'm sure the kingdom of Georgia is greatly missing their sorcerer.
[A long groan comes through the trees. It could be the trunks bending to the wind. Though Yennefer knows better.]
Feels like nothing. Unless your dear comrade from the inn has brothers.
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[ John casts off the glamor. If they are to send him back then he can't wander back through a portal looking like a Ren Faire reject. Though her comment earns a soft laugh. ]
Wouldn't want to ruin your company. And if they're missing me then we are in a bad way.
[ There's a softer look that does imply that someone would be missing him. John would be missing them as well. Quick jaunt to another dimension is one thing. He's not keen on staying when he's got such good company back in the Big Apple. ]
You're from here. [ Countered. ] I dunno. Feels almost familiar.
And don't worry that bastard nor any of his friends will come bother the likes of you and yours once you get me out of your hair. Anyways, Hell isn't keen on sending more people to wind up bested by me so soon. Even they have limits and rules for their one-off fights.
Let's do this.
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[Gods what an outfit. As to the demon she nods.]
There are enough wild things to deal with as it stands.
[And they handled it well enough. John was comfortable in such a scrap so it must be true.]
Charming, alas we must part. Yes. Given that you are not from a place I have seen, may I see it in your thoughts? That will ensure accuracy. Take my hand.
[Offering it out, this would be the first time they touch, wouldn't it?]
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[ Said with no small amount of sarcasm. ]
Truer words.
[ He's had many a scrap with a low-level demon looking to rise in the ranks. He's tussled with one or two higher ones as well. Nergal was the one that got him better at what he does. His refusal to fail another child as he did with Astra. ]
Don't sound so broken up about it.
[ A gentle tease. They can do that, right? Not much better bonding than fighting a demon and running from angry, drunk locals. He nods and takes her hand.
As soon as their hands clasp it's like a connection flairs to life like a lightning bolt straight out of the sky. It's quick and forceful to a point that all John can do is ride it out. He can't even think of tamping down his mental shields to try and keep her out.
Claws and blue fire. A dark door opens. Natalie. Alex. Astra. John, get me out of here! It's magic or me. You can't save her. John finally has enough presence of mind to break the connection and stumbles back a step or two, reeling from the magic still strong around them. ]
What the bloody hell was that?
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[Her eyes are dry and the moment before contact, Yennefer is even smiling. The touch and her posture straightens. Violet eyes widen and her mouth drops open. Usually when she taps into minds it's like reading a sign. A door has flung open and pulled her into darkness to watch a staging of events whirl around her. The force has blown back the dirt, dry leaves and branches from where they stand to clear the forest floor.
She can't catch her breath but blink. Screaming, crying, names, voices, the smell like before only acrid. Yennefer blinks and her heart beats so hard it hurts.]
I don't--that wasn't what I wanted.
[Both hands clasp over her heart and her eyes harden to look at him. Opening her mouth but no words come out.]
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[ The flashes he gets from her are just as strong as those she gleaned from him. Broken mirror. Screaming. Fire. Sisters. When he comes out of it with his head clearing, there is dirt blown back from their connection. Leaves are still falling from being blown off the trees. Some of the trunks nearest to them are busted or cracked.
His breathing is ragged and his voice shakes. ]
Not what I was after either. I don't---I've never had that happen before.
[ But Geralt who was coming up just outside of the scene has. It happened with Pavetta in the grand hall of Cintra. It's old magic. Primal and chaotic.
But he has bigger problems than that currently. His quarry is dead but he is in little better shape. ]
You've made a friend I see.
[ Because dry humor is the way to go when one is in a bad way. ]
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You and your magic--[she can't complete her thought. It's just as well. It was not kind at all. Seeing him in such a state has helped her find her strength.] Nevermind that. Geralt, you must sit.
[John gets a solid stare as she grabs her bag and comes closer. Wet with river water, mud and blood she needs to see where to start.]
This is Just John. He's a mage.
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John. [ He sniffs and keeps his face impassive. There is little about him that is just anything if his keen senses are anything to go off of. He sits heavily and works on getting his armor out of the way. His movements are slow and sluggish.
John moves over to give a hand. ]
I can help. I'm pretty good in a pinch.
[ Geralt fumbles with a small bag that holds vials of his potions and it makes a clinking sound that proves the last hit that threw him into a tree did, in fact, break them. Damn.
If Yenn trusts this man then he sees no reason why he shouldn't. He lets him take the satchel from him. ]
Here, I can have a look.
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[Something with talons or claws that catch and the ability to fling him about like a rag doll. There's blood in his hair and a spool of woven cotton comes up, a bottle of vodka too.]
Take care. There are more hands now than usual, you have no need to strain.
[Which is far removed from how she has been speaking to John. Her face falls listening to the glass tinkle.]
I could have held those.
[Yennefer still being Yennefer.]
John, you're fond of introductions. Geralt of Rivia, the white haired witcher. He has other titles and hates them all.
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Spriggan.
[ John carefully works on laying open the bag as Geralt lets Yennefer help him with his armor. His head throbs as his side does. It was a hard battle but he bested the beast. ]
I didn't expect to need you to.
[ He admits.
John offers a quirk of a smile at the introduction. ]
Can't say I blame you, mate. I've gotten called loads of thing. Many of them true, mind, but that doesn't mean I prefer them.
[ Contents laid out on the ground next to them, John waves a hand and focuses his magic. Uttered spellwork falls effortlessly from his lips and the bottles begin to repair themselves with their mixtures still intact. After it is done, he looks to the Witcher. ]
Any one of these you need in particular?
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wrap this one?
sounds good <3