worstsin: (Default)
Geralt of Rivia ([personal profile] worstsin) wrote 2017-09-23 03:37 am (UTC)

"Nina."

Strong, white hands reached out for her, grabbing onto Nina's upper arms to keep her from wheeling away from the dying fire, the camp, in the early morning. He was still careful of his hands, the dangerous curve of his nails. They hadn't gotten worse over the night, which he was grateful for, but only just, and they hadn't gotten any better.

"Hey. It was a nightmare. You had a nightmare. You're here, with me."

It was, he knew, perhaps not much of a comfort. The thin pre-dawn sun filtered in just enough to illuminate the woods, but it bleached any remaining color from Geralt's skin, and it lit his eyes from behind with a strange glow.

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