[ Noon is precisely when Geralt arrives. He could ask which tavern Clive has settled on, but Geralt prefers to do it his way. It doesn't take long for him to locate the man and his thick head of black hair.
He joins Clive, chair scraping against the stained floors. His gaze roams over him. ] I see you're...back to form.
[ He imagines it's not as strange to look at him, though, in return; Geralt changed little in those eight hundred years. The only thing different about him now is that he no longer has the shroud of the wolf and no forest sprouts around him. He does, however, retain a sharp glow to his eyes when the moonlight strikes them—a feature not there before. ]
no subject
[ Noon is precisely when Geralt arrives. He could ask which tavern Clive has settled on, but Geralt prefers to do it his way. It doesn't take long for him to locate the man and his thick head of black hair.
He joins Clive, chair scraping against the stained floors. His gaze roams over him. ] I see you're...back to form.
[ He imagines it's not as strange to look at him, though, in return; Geralt changed little in those eight hundred years. The only thing different about him now is that he no longer has the shroud of the wolf and no forest sprouts around him. He does, however, retain a sharp glow to his eyes when the moonlight strikes them—a feature not there before. ]