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❝ You couldn't find one you didn't have to pay for? ❞
Ros
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The sky was a deep and daunting void and the snow fell soft and steady, settling on my head in a crown of white.
We had ridden west away from Hagge, following old roads through abandoned fields and harrowing woods and streams. From time to time I would check Geralt's wounds and apply all the knowledge I had learned from Saski's journal. He was healing nicely, though I was certain Geralt would tend to them himself as soon as I fell asleep.
The inn Geralt and I found ourselves in was commodious compared to others we had stayed in before. The absences of scuttering insects, decoration of cobwebs and the patter rats was a surprisingly nice addition - a rare standard I greatly appreciated. The room was spacious enough, with a bed large enough for us both. Compared to the ground, the mattress felt as if I were sleeping on a cloud, despite the rusty springs that dug into my back.
Even with the niceties of the room, sleep did not come easy to me. Geralt lay unmoving as I left the room in the middle of the night. The moon had travelled past the sky's peak but it would be hours until the sun rose over the horizon.
My hands were stained black, my numbing fingers tightly gripped my sling. It had been months since Geralt and I completed the Jenny o the Woods contract and yet my memory of it was so clear as if it had happened only a day before. The feeling of Bokhai convulsing in my hands, the sputtering of his breaths, the bottomless insanity in his eyes.
I had mended my sling since then, replacing the fraying string with some stronger horse-hair twine which Geralt had found for me. If I had to protect myself again, I needed something which wasn't on the verge of snapping. A short whistle sounded past my ear, watching as a rock launched through the air and bounced just off centre from the charcoal target I had drawn on the stable's wall. Barely a mark.
I had been practising my shot every day whenever I was able; while Geralt prepared Roach for travelling, while Geralt skinned our dinner or when we made camp for the night. I had improved my aim tremendously but there was still a way to go; the power behind my swings was not as strong as I would like them to be - as I needed them to be.
