"Maraas-lok," he answered. "It'll put some chest on your chest."

With a quiet grunt, Bull set the maul down on the other side of the fire before he moved closer. He eased down, left leg stretched out and the brace reflecting the firelight. He was close to Geralt, close enough at least that they could pass the jug back and forth. He worked the cork out and offered Geralt the first drink.

And as he did, he looked closely at the witcher.

"What happened to you?" Those claws wouldn't be out of place on Bull. But he remembered Geralt looking... mostly human.