"Oh, a freak she is, by all means."

Though Letho is remarkably agile, it's gross to even think about.

"The great diplomat, classic old-timer."

At least we don't think of molesting stable boys.

If it were stable Tempest, he would've engaged for sure.

As if she did not.

Considering her general despise for company, he feels fine.

She should shut her flap and open a bottle.

He will get his own bottle. Aged wine.

Guess you'll never know.

This piss will render her senses useless for hours. She's still invited to try.

Very well. The offer remains on the table.

"C'mon now, be nice. Years have passed since I last saw you."

"Eight years."

"One year my dear." He shook his head with a mischievous giggle.

"Still give great head though."

"Because you are, it's quite enjoyable too."

"Want me to demonstrate?"

"Then I wonder why you have your trousers on." He spoke with a smirk while scratching his chin.

"A life saver." The witcher gasped at the sight of liquor, and the one holding it.