‘Sleep well, Ciri,’ he muttered, breathing in her pleasant, sparrow scent. ‘Sleep well. Goodnight, Braenn.’ ‘Dearme, Gwynbleidd.’ Above their heads a billion Brokilon branches soughed and hundreds of billions of Brokilon leaves rustled.4yr ⋅ ragnarthoughts ⋅ r/wiedzmin
Zoltan, Yazon Varda, Caleb Stratton and Percival Schuttenbach sat down near the wagon and without taking a breather played Barrel, their favourite card game, which they devoted every spare minute to, including the previous wet evenings.4yr ⋅ ragnarthoughts ⋅ r/wiedzmin
‘Bow, sir knight,’ the Purple Knight hissed. The freshly dubbed knight, Geralt of Rivia, bowed low, so that Queen Meve, his suzerain, would not see the smile–the bitter smile–that he was unable to resist.4yr ⋅ ragnarthoughts ⋅ r/wiedzmin
Reading the last chapter of Blood of Elves. I love the mother-daughter moments.4yr ⋅ ragnarthoughts ⋅ r/witcher
