An Unexpected Friend♥🐾 ~ The Witcher FLUFF

🐾🐱⚔

"Where's Ciri?" The white-haired witcher asked, impatiently heaving the wooden sword they trained with in his hand.

The youngest of his peers at Kaer Morhen shrugged, laying back on the grass. "Coming, probably."

"She's never late to a training session, Lambert," he replied with a desperate sigh.

"Geralt, relax! Maybe you're just early?" But he didn't get an answer. Underneath all those layers of armour, the White Wolf was but a worrier. "She's not a kid anymore, dude. She'll be okay."

"She is a kid, though. She's just seventeen."

"Just?!" Lambert groaned, running a gloved hand down his face in annoyance.

Fortunately, Ciri showed up before his father worried to death, running up to their mentors as happily as always.

"Hey!" She waved over at them, already wielding her own sword and attempting a strike at Geralt with a playful grin.

The witcher blocked it quickly, despite the little time he had to prepare for it. She was a clever girl, but he was an expert.

Brows knit together, he returned the swing and they both danced to the clunks and thuds of their weapons for a few seconds before he grabbed her wrist.

"Ah! What-" She whined, caught in his grip.

"What are those, Ciri?" He growled, although that was just his way of speaking, and she knew.

She had to look at her hand to know what he was talking about. Her skin was covered in thin, barely noticeable scratches.

"Got caught in thorn bush on my way here," she replied, without batting an eye.

Luckily, not even picking up her scent or her speeding heartbeat helped him detect a lie.

She couldn't just tell him that she had taking the longer way around the fortress to slack off before training and had encountered a cat.

She pulled her hand back under his narrow-eyed stare, and continued with the fight before he could think of another question for her.

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Long after the sun had started its way down, as did the intensity of the training, the White Wolf decided that it was the moment to let his pup take a break.

As usual, the session ended by an Igni-casted fire, Ciri's work. Geralt handed her some cooked chicken scraps to regain her strength, getting some for himself too.

Those late evening meals after training were a moment of leisure for them both.

They usually chatted about their day, at least about the part of it they spend separately, and then headed back to the fortress together.

But that day, she seemed eager to finish her food and leave.

"I'm so tired!" She complained, exaggerating a yawn and making the witcher roll his eyes.

"I'll head back! You can stay here, don't worry!" She was quick to announce, kissing his cheek goodbye and leaving before he could say a word.

Geralt didn't wait for his medallion to start vibrating to worry.

He was too curious about her hurry but, luckily, he kept his head cool and came up with an idea.

"Hm. Okay."

He let her leave as he finished his chicken by the fire- it wouldn't be hard to follow her track even after a while.

The witcher tossed the chicken bones to the ground and put the fire out. Ciri had taken her rubbish with her, it seemed.