———《 Sᴏɴ ᴏғ Sᴋᴇʟʟɪɢᴇ 》——— ⠀ ❝ If yer no’ a Black One, nor a foul-tempered beast, you’ll no’ find me axe to yer throat. Touch what’s mine and I’ll skin ye the same.❞ ⠀ ⠀⠀___________________________ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ↺ + ♥ Appreciated ⠀⠀ 《 #OC • #TheWitcher 》

Oof. His toes are cold.

He.. might take her up on the offer. She's kind to aid him.

Oh? She is but a child herself, and it could be dangerous. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if she were harmed in any way.

May the Gods bless her. Not many people are as sweet as her. The smile elicits one of his own, tilting his head slightly to the side.

...It worries him that he's even considering allowing her to accompany him. Does she know how to defend herself?

He was hoping she would follow. He likes her too! "You are well?" Smiled Zosynn with a small chuckle.

"About the same." He replied, straightening his neck. "Do you.. Run The Healing Hand by yourself?..."

"Oh!" Perked the Griffin with a confident grin. "That's perfect. It's the least I can do, Melysandrae." Truth be told, he's been feeling less than useful as of late. Restless.

With that, the Witcher happily placed himself in front of one crate and picked it up with a slight struggle. "Hm.. Where.. do you want this?"

He nodded in affirmation before turning towards the front. "...How long have you owned The Healing Hand?" Called out Zosynn, attempting to satiate his curiosity. "I haven't been in these parts for some time... a lot has seemed to change."

A small chuckle escapes. "There is no such thing as a day off.."

He accepts the placement.

It seems the path has consumed him. But.. he lives. So far.

He is in dire need of food. His stomach sounds like a dying waterhag.

The nightmares are too strong to find any adequate sleep..