The Gods We Design ~Witcher Fanfiction~ ON HOLD

Cp. 1- Rizeve of Leria, The Demon Wolf

A scream sounds in the distance, a clang of swords following.

The wind whispers idly through the pine trees, soft grass ruffling in the wind. A dear drinks from the bubbling creek nearby.

A snap of branches, an almost silent curse, the deer flies off into the distance.

"Fuck!" a feminine voice, albeit rough, calls softly as her prey runs off.

"If you took more time to watch your footsteps, that wouldn't happen." an older masculine voice calls softly from besides the girl.

"I was hoping you weren't watching, Master."

"You ran off into the woods, intent on bringing back food. I followed to make sure I got my dinner." the man puts a light tone of amusement in his voice, a smirk growing on his lips as the girl sighs.

"Of Course, master."

"Come back to the keep when you get food, not a moment before." The man says, then in a rush of wind, he is gone.

"Fucking Witcher..."

*50 years later*

"The winter has come quicker this year. I imagine the others will be here soon." The girl, now a woman, says to the man, who stands a far distance away, but she never raises her voice, knowing the man can hear her.

"I would imagine you are correct, Rizeve." the man says, equally quiet.

"What's on your mind, Vesemir, you're never this quiet when it comes to the boys coming home." Rizeve askes, pulling a fine sword blade across an old whetstone.

"Geralt comes home this season."

"The white wolf, to meet the demon wolf, nervous are you?"

Vesemir smirks, "if anything, I fear for your safety."

"If you're worried about my virtue, that ship has sailed many years ago, old friend." Rizeve says with a laugh.

Vesemir grimaces, not enjoying the thought of the woman he considers his daughter engaging in that sort of thing.

"Hardly. Geralt doesn't know we have continued making Witchers. He may not be so welcoming to the new crop of killers produced."

Rizeve hums under her breath, pouring an oil onto a cloth and polishing the silver blade with it.

"He'll have to deal with it. Once he reaches Kaer Morhen, the snow will have set in, and he'll be stuck here until spring shows her face."

Vesemir grunts, "the other boys will be here later today. Don't kill any of them."

"Well damn, there goes my winter plans." Rizeve says with a smirk.

Rizeve was always the first to return to her almost-home in Kaer Morhen, followed swiftly by vesemir, who helped her ready the place for the winter. A month of cleaning and hunting by the two lead to a sufficiently stocked winter home, and the others would always show up with their own goodies, be it monster or meat.

And while Kaer Morhen wasn't home, as home wasn't what brought nightmares reeling to the surface, waking you with choked down screams, it was as close to home as the wandering Witcher's got, so they always returned to their school.

In the fairer months, Rizeve would find herself hunting monsters in the far north. Why she would choose that, none would ever know. In the northern places, the hatred of Witchers was vast, and in most small towns she came to find contract, she would end up being chased out or stoned. Or, in most occasions, both.