Krem had been listening, since he'd heard Geralt come into the barn, tucked up in the loft quietly. He didn't sleep up there any more than he slept in the house or down in the stall with Bull, really, but he'd taken to keeping his armor and weapons up there. In case.

Apparently, in case was a good thing.

He popped his head down from the loft door and sketch a vague, perfunctory salute of acknowledgement, before disappearing back up. "Smash and your maul are in the tack room, Chief. I'll be down in a minute."