Make Me Feel Again ♕ Geralt Of Rivia

four .

E L E A N O R A

"I killed a rat this morning with my breakfast fork. Stabbed it in its fat little gut." The girl continues enthusiastically as she leads Gor and me out of the tavern, "But what was I supposed to do? It's been shitting in our pantry for days."

We pass Baldy, who shoots us a dirty look as we go, none too happy that his female companion had stopped him from causing some pain to a Witcher, I assume.

"You mentioned coin." Geralt reminds the little girl as we approach Roach.

The severed Kikimora talon was now creating a puddle of dark blood under it as it continues to drip.

"Yes," she replies, "Isadora said you were looking for my father. She's a gossip, you see. Probably went two steps into the Lord's Inn before she was running off telling everyone an evil Witcher had arrived."

I raise an amused brow at her choice of words, glancing at Gor who's lip is quirked into a smirk.

She notices our reactions and appraises him, lifting her chin, "You don't scare me."

"That's too bad." Geralt mumbles, seemingly just amused by this girl as I was.

"And I can also tell you that my father will have no use for this beast."

"Your father, the alderman?" Geralt questions, "He posted a flyer."

"For a Graveir. Kikimoras are useful." She points out with a shrug, "Population control."

Geralt hums thoughtfully in reply as the girl goes on, "You should speak to Master Irion, our wizard." She says, "He's willing to pay for odds and ends he needs for elixirs. I sold him my dog when it died. Mysteriously."

I snort out a laugh at the last part, and Geralt quirks a brow at me as if asking 'what do you think?'.

"Sounds promising," I say, mostly to appease the little girl who seems excited about all this.

"Fine." He grunts, "Take us to him."

"I got fifteen crowns for the yappy mutt." The girl stated, "That's enough to buy some new clothes. Just saying."

I throw my head back in laughter, "What've I been telling you?"

"Hm," Is all the response we get from Geralt with his ever stoic face, though I can tell he's trying to smother a laugh. "Come on, Roach."

Geralt pats Roach's saddle in an offer to let me sit while he walks, but I shake my head, feeling the need to stretch my legs a little.

"Have you ever killed a succubus? A striga? Werewolf? She-wolf?" The girl resumes her line of question, not even bothering to wait for a reply.

"That's not a thing." Geralt cuts in before she could get another word in.

"So you've killed the rest? I think that makes you a hero. My mother says you're the offspring of foul sorcery, a diabolic creation, a filthy degenerate born of Hell. Have you ever been to hell?" She goes on. I glance at Gor who shoots me a pleading look, I return a look of my own- one which says: you're on your own, buddy. "I've never even left Blaviken. Because my mother's never left Blaviken, and if it's good enough for Libushe, then it's good enough for Marilka. That's my name. Marilka. Like milk. What's your name?"