[ It's the radiating tension that catches his attention the most. Though Geralt is not relaxed, his stance is far from ready to come to blows, arms folded across his chest and weight resting on one leg. Dean, however, looks as if he's locked in a fight that only he can see brewing.

He makes an exasperated noise. That's Dean's takeaway from his remark? A childish insult? ]

Your scent. It's different. Like you've walked through fire.

[ Which, a month or so ago, he could understand. The fires have been put out in Libertas since. And this is...he can't put his finger on it, but it isn't the exact smell of smoke and ash. That's just the closest description he can put into words. ]

And you're behaving more of a cock than usual. [ He's only saying. ] What's going on with you?