"It's a lute," Geralt confirmed, with deep exasperation.
He did adore Dandelion, but the strumming could get old, when Geralt was trying to concentrate on tracking. Though, should anyone ever actually threaten his lute, Geralt would step in unhappily. Not because Dandelion wouldn't deserve it, but because that particular lute was made by the elves of Dol Blathanna, and was irreplaceable.
"'These scars long have yearned for your tender caress, to bind our fortunes, damn what the stars own.'"
Geralt snorted over the lyrics, from that damn ballad about he and Yenn.
"Really love between you two, isn't it?"
He could tell, in the way that the Bull's tone changed, his expression. In other ways, that he couldn't finger, but were surely a part of his background senses.
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He did adore Dandelion, but the strumming could get old, when Geralt was trying to concentrate on tracking. Though, should anyone ever actually threaten his lute, Geralt would step in unhappily. Not because Dandelion wouldn't deserve it, but because that particular lute was made by the elves of Dol Blathanna, and was irreplaceable.
"'These scars long have yearned for your tender caress, to bind our fortunes, damn what the stars own.'"
Geralt snorted over the lyrics, from that damn ballad about he and Yenn.
"Really love between you two, isn't it?"
He could tell, in the way that the Bull's tone changed, his expression. In other ways, that he couldn't finger, but were surely a part of his background senses.