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Midnight hit, the moon in the middle of the sky much like the sun at high noon. The woman hasn't slept at all, instead, keeping a very close eye on her captives. She has long since pulled her sword from the holder, holding it in her lap. The danger was high, having a Witcher tied up only a few feet away. Her hand trails down the blade of the sword, rubbing gently on the leather of her glove. The nocturnal animals have since stopped their noises, not a peep to be heard in the surrounding forest.
Everything about this would be unsettling to anyone, yet the woman sits calm as ever, eyes flickering down to the blade for a moment. A sigh leaves her as she looks at the moonlight shine right off of it. The bard started to stir in his unconscious state, catching her attention from the sword. With a groan, Jaskier's head tilts to the side, his eyes cracking open just the slightest bit to catch the glow of the fire.
He lets out a moan, suddenly throwing his head back and resting against the tree. "Geralt, that wasn't fun. .ny." He trails off, catching the white eyes of the woman sitting on the other side of the fire. "Oh my God." He awes, watching with a look of pure curiosity. His eyes instantly dart to where Geralt sits, still unconscious against the other tree. "You're it." He gasps. "You're the Phantom." The woman stands up, her head dipped and tilted to the right ever so slightly. "Geralt."
She takes a step around the fire, walking with strides to him. Jaskier shrinks back a bit at the sight of what he believes to be a monster, walking to him. The sword in her hand drags on the floor a bit, causing a chill to run down his back. Jaskier drops his head, turning it to look at his companion. Once more, he calls out to the Witcher as she raises the sword to tilt his head back up. His eyes practically jump around, trying to take in everything about the person in front of him.
As true to the stories about her, her eyes were white as snow, almost reflecting the moon itself off of them and to him. Some form of black paint was made out into the designs described on her face, pooling around the eyes almost looking like the moon in the sky above head. Then he noticed something, everything about her conflicts with the monster part of the story so far. The supposed monster standing before him looks more human than any story has described.
He takes in a deep breath, eyeing up the sword that is under his chin, nearly touching his throat. Neither notice the stirring of the Witcher to the side of them. "Jaskier?" He calls out after a moment, drawing both pairs of eyes to him. The woman lowers her sword, stepping away from him and back to her place on the other side of the fire. Geralt raises his head, golden eyes squinting at the light of the flames that lick the air. He suddenly becomes extremely aware of the eyes that are on him.
Jaskier tilts his head back once more. "About time you woke up!" Geralt looks over at him in confusion. "Geralt we have a bit of a problem." The bard puts his attention on the woman sitting across from them. Geralt follows his gaze till he's locked with the white eyes of the Phantom. He takes notice in how she tilts head, eyes tracing every inch of him as he does the same to her.
Geralt shifts in his bounds, sitting up straighter. "You're the Phantom?" His voice made it sound as though he was unsure of what he was seeing. The woman rises just as she had done for Jaskier and walks over to the man. Their eyes stay locked the whole time and through the burning wood, the smell of mint and berries hits him.
She kneels down, her sword holding her balanced. "And you're the Witcher." Her voice was smooth, like a dream. She speaks in a whisper that only he hears clearly. "Geralt of Rivia." His name rolls from her tongue like poison. "I've heard of you. Your reputation holds you strong Witcher." She stands tall, her sword meeting the side of his neck gently. "Do tell, why have you followed me? Surely it's not for the devil I butchered in the tiny town to the south." She presses the sword to his neck a bit more.
Geralt doesn't speak, holding her gaze with no expression on his face. Jaskier pulls on his bounds at the sight of a sword to his friend's neck. "Gold." He calls out, watching snow eyes dart to him quick like a viper. "People talk about you-"
"People always talk." She speaks to him, narrowing her eyes before turning back to the Witcher. "People don't know when to stop is the problem." She draws her sword back, leaving a cut on Geralt's neck, a thin line of blood runs along the cut and down his neck. The tip of her sword touches the grass lightly.
Jaskier lets out a shaky breath. "Why did you kill that man?" Jaskier questions, watching the woman walk around the fire, placing a large stick into it, the fire puffing up for a moment with the new fuel. She sets down her sword with the others.
She looks up, the fire reflecting off of the bottom of her eyes, making it appear like it was actually in her eyes. "'e was no man." She speaks, crouching down before the fire. "A monster struck with greed." She goes on, looking to the fire. "You claim you followed me for gold? For the glory of capturing the monstrous Phantom? Tell me, little bard? Do I seem monstrous to you?" Jaskier couldn't answer that, he didn't know the first thing about her. "You want to turn me in for coin you say? You an' the Witcher." She huffs out a laugh. "You know how many people would kill for that? Greedy people. Greed turns people into monsters little bard."
A deep hum comes from the Witcher as the woman rises and walks towards the horses, her cloak dragging every so slightly along some of the tall grass. "And you know so much about that huh?" The Witcher's deep voice calls out, making the hair on the back of her neck stand a bit. She shakes her head, going through one of the bags on the back of her horse. "About monsters?" She glances over her shoulder at him, now with a bottle in her hand.
She pulls the cork from the bottle, taking a swig from it. "I know enough Witcher." She snaps, walking back over and crouching in front of Jasakier. "Would you like a drink little bard?" She raises a blackened eyebrow to him. Her right-hand holds the bottle up a bit. "Take the edge off." She tilts her head to the side. She smiles at him, showing off the non-vampiric teeth that she has, knocking off the probability of her being a vampire clear off of the table.
Jaskier swallows hard, his hand clenching behind him before he glances to Geralt. Geralt doesn't do anything, his eyes still raking up and down the woman, trying to pick her apart at the seams. "Uh." He trails off, now eyeing up the swirling dark drink. "Sure?" The smile on her face drops as she raises the drink to his lips, though her white eyes almost sparkle with some kind of mischief.
She reaches up with her gloved hand, patting Jaskier on the head. "Good little bard. That's what I'm talking about." She stands up, striding her way to Geralt. "What of you Witcher? Care for a drink?" She shakes the bottle in his direction. Geralt eyes her before shaking his head. "Suit yourself." She takes a swig from the bottle. "You're going to be here for a while, so get comfy." She sits down before the fire.
