𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍 // 𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀

06 ✟ 𝖍𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖞-𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙

"Oh, Witcher" Valerie sighed, observing the slow breaths of the man sprawled out between dead leaves and dried blood.. She scouted the area; two dead centipedes and one fainted man. Sitting down next to Geralt, her hands find the cold skin of his neck. Her eyes closed shut, focused on finding a pulse.

It was extremely slow. Slower than even a witcher should be. She looked back at her horse, and then to Geralt again, biting her lip. There is no way she would be able to lift him up on the stallion all by herself. She grinned slightly, despite the situation. Her taking care of a witcher? Kind of ironic. Funny almost.

She had no other choice than to search for help but she hesitated, looking down at the poor man, before walking to the white stallion. Maybe she really was prince charming, who knew?

"Now you don't let him leave, alright?" she stroked coarse mane, before tying the scattered rope around a tree. She thought it over one more time, before walking off for help.

She didn't have to walk far, before she came across a familiar hut. "Solomon?" she called out, stretching her neck around the little residency. Val and Solomon were the only two living at Hotsch forest, sometimes being each others companions in the survival of the terrain. The redhead peeked from the window with a sheepish smile.

He was slightly drunk, she could tell by his distant look and silently swaying head.
"Valerie! You need to watch out, there's a Witcher in the forest" he stated the obvious, and Valerie grinned charmingly at him.

"I know. And he isn't too well. Do you think you could help me?" she walked closer to the hut, her head tilted sympathetically. Out the door stormed a frightened bard. She didn't flinch.

"Jaskier! I'm guessing you're with the Witcher? Did your reunion go well?" she asked, placing a hand on the staggering bard. He too was drunk, his hands fumbling to even find his own knees.

Valerie and Jaskier weren't strangers. Both of them are travelers of the continent, meeting many strange places around the world. Then they came together, singing songs and talking about the future and then departed like strangers. Jaskier had mentioned his Witcher friend Geralt before, and how they always seemed to find their way back to each other.

"Geralt's not well?" Jaskier cut to the chase, ignoring Valerie's questions. She awed at his retort, before helping him to balance, holding him by his satin blue shirt. His eyebrows were raised warily, as his eyes glossed over the girl.

"He passed out. from whatever he was fighting. I have some remedies that might help at my cabin, but frankly I can't move him by myself" she explained, to both Jaskier and Solomon.

"We can take my wagon. Tie it to ye' horse!" Solomon stuck a finger in the air, the ale making his idea seem so marvelous he was about to puke. Valerie nodded in agreement, and the three of them dragged the cart to the place she had left Geralt.

Luckily he was still there. Sadly enough, he wasn't awake.

"For the love of Melitele, what is that?" Jaskier asked with disgust, looking at the four pieces of centipede circling Geralt. The goo was seeping into the forest bottom, and the smell was rather unpleasant. Jaskier scrunched his nose, before kicking the dead bugs away in disgust. He managed to get the goo on his foot, and tried scraping it against the ground; now his boot was covered in dirt and centipede.

"Geralt?" Valerie's voice turned soft like honeydew when she uttered his name for the first time, even to her own surprise. Her hair fell around her shoulders as she leaned over the man. She grabbed his shoulder, turning him on his back. His face was smudged in dirt, the white of his hair dimmed in the light as it was framed messily around his face. Valerie grabbed one of his arms, finding it much heavier than she thought as she pulled it up with all her strength. That was Valerie's number one problem; She was strong for a girl of her physique but this wasn't the first time her small agile figure had caused her disadvantages.