𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐌'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐘 | ❝ Great works are performed not by strength but by perseverance. ❞
A quest to complete a bestiary leads Ruselm to force the infamous witcher Geralt, of Rivia, to accompany him during his travels after many ins...
RUSELM'S BESTIARY CHAPTER THIRTEEN ─ SONG OF A GOAT Note: I am incredibly sorry it has taken me years to update this. You all know how much I love my boys Ruselm and Geralt, they're the loves of my life. Unfortunately, when I stopped writing after chapter twelve, I hit a bit of a slump in my writing. And now after two years, I hope to be back permanently. Here's to the new year and the many adventures it will bring! Also, we reached 8.85k reads? Guys, that is insane. I love you all! Dedication: _wearingsamtotheprom
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
TRAVELING ALONE ON this quiet road leading far, far away from Blaviken and the madness of that coastal town gave Geralt ample time to reflect on the happenings there, on the people and everything that had transpired. He could take a moment to breathe deep and not taste the saltwater in the air. To bask in the bright sunlight as a cat does, the warmth fanning over his cheeks as he turns his face to the sky, Roach plodding steadily on beneath him. He cared very little for where they would end up and very much for where that reckless Nazairian would turn up dead if he continued the way he was.
He chose a separate path to keep Ruselm safe but that didn't mean he wasn't concerned for what trouble he could get up to in Geralt's absence.
Geralt closes his eyes.
What was Ruselm thinking, asking him a question like that? The last thing he needed was a headache trailing along behind him and getting them both into trouble. He'd attract questions, unnecessary attention from people the witcher wanted no interactions with. He'd only distract Geralt at all the worst times. He'd also get them both killed when it came to Geralt doing his job, that's what he had to tell himself anyways.
Being alone is better. Safer.
He opens his eyes, staring down the path ahead of them. Every step his horse took put yet another between Geralt and Ruselm, distance that only confirmed his belief that to be alone was to be better and with nobody to contest these thoughts, the witcher held to them firmly like a crone to her trinkets. This distance could be a good thing, too. It didn't have to mark the end of the two knowing each other. No, Geralt knew for certain he'd run into that eccentric little monster enthusiast sooner or later. The continent was only so big, after all.
An errant breeze ruffles Roach's chestnut-colored mane and the mare holds her head higher, taking in the cool air. Geralt suddenly wondered once more how Ruselm could manage to communicate with his horse. Or that bear.
Those princesses and young maidens who'd Geralt had heard of, the ones who could talk to animals... their stories had never ended well. He knew it was the same sad song for Halla, too, but he wondered if she was royalty. If she had been able to commune with beasts, she could have passed such a trait on to her son. Having seen stranger occurrences, Geralt wouldn't be very surprised but he would still be somewhat shocked that Ruselm had inherited the ability no matter how pure of heart he seemed to be.
