[ He considers answering the question. Amusing her with the notion that he's only ever named his horse one thing for the past hundred years. Then she turns to look at the wolf, deep in thought, and the moment passes. He studies her instead while she thinks it over. Watches the way her fingers sink into the wolf's fur. He's had that wolf since it showed up at his doorstep; it isn't dangerous nor aggressive, but it's still a wolf: wild, untamed, and certainly not keen on strangers who would stroke or touch it.
Except she's not a stranger. In fact, this is the first time he's seen the wolf sleep so soundly.
The name itself is not important. It's only that she'll name it at all. And she does, finally, turning to him. Gwiazda. He can't say what he was expecting to hear, only that it fits. The name. The wolf perks up, awake, fuzzy ears lifting. ]
He likes it. [ Of course he does. So it'll be his. It doesn't matter if she'll look back on this moment with disdain or not. Geralt plans to keep the name—for a reason he isn't entirely consciously aware of but which, deep down, is maybe about her having given him something she cannot take back.
How much longer will you stay? He's afraid to ask. Time had stretched for days when they'd stepped inside, but it'd been shorter the two times he'd brought someone else in. Too short, he thinks. And yet she's been here too long already. His eyes close, briefly, before opening again, heavy-lidded. He isn't sure what feels worse: that he might fall asleep here and wake to find her gone, or if she will simply vanish before his eyes. ]
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Except she's not a stranger. In fact, this is the first time he's seen the wolf sleep so soundly.
The name itself is not important. It's only that she'll name it at all. And she does, finally, turning to him. Gwiazda. He can't say what he was expecting to hear, only that it fits. The name. The wolf perks up, awake, fuzzy ears lifting. ]
He likes it. [ Of course he does. So it'll be his. It doesn't matter if she'll look back on this moment with disdain or not. Geralt plans to keep the name—for a reason he isn't entirely consciously aware of but which, deep down, is maybe about her having given him something she cannot take back.
How much longer will you stay? He's afraid to ask. Time had stretched for days when they'd stepped inside, but it'd been shorter the two times he'd brought someone else in. Too short, he thinks. And yet she's been here too long already. His eyes close, briefly, before opening again, heavy-lidded. He isn't sure what feels worse: that he might fall asleep here and wake to find her gone, or if she will simply vanish before his eyes. ]