Geralt watching Bull move closer with curiosity, only stiffening for a moment when the man touched him. He wasn't accustomed to a touch of any kind of friendly tenderness, outside of Vesemir, Dandelion, Regis, a small number of others. He didn't dislike it, but it remained strange to him.

But the Bull's eyes slid closed, an expression of trust, like a huge grey puma. Geralt breathed out slowly, calmly.

He watched the other man pull away with baffled curiosity on his face once again. He didn't speak or understand any of the language that Bull spoke, only that it reminded him of some of the tongues used in Ofier.

"Vaer'trouv, tierth."