[ there's a tension in him that yennefer notices almost immediately following her question. a part of her feels as though she should, perhaps, feel bad for that. perhaps even scared. something about this man is different than what she expects, and something further tells her that his anger, his tension, can be dangerous. and yet she does not feel that fear, does not feel the need to do much more than simply blink as he stares at her - confident that even now, almost especially now - she is safe, here.

we've met.

yes, she supposes they have. she doesn't question him, because regardless of if she has memories of the matter, she knows it to be true. they have met. something in her says they have met more than once. more than that, even.

it is his next set of words that has her blinking, that searching, curious look from her pulling back to something a bit more confused. not only from what he says - you shouldn't be here - but the sound of his voice. what is it he's hiding? why does that roughness sound so familiar, not necessarily because she has heard it before, but because she knows (somewhere in her) what causes it. ] My wolf? [ is it her wolf? that thought loosens the expression on her face. where did her wolf go? ] He led me here, to this room. It was unlocked, when I checked, and when I came inside... [ she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, looking content again. calm. like she belongs. when her eyes open back up again, they are clear. all of her feels a little more clear. ]

It's warmer in here than the rest of this place. [ her eyes go to the door behind him, then back to his face. she likes the cut of his jaw, the gold of his eyes. it is somehow not at all strange to her, that his eyes are such a brilliant gold. they are his. ] Is this your room?