Answer truthfully

“Doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him,” Geralt said.

“Good enough for me,” Theora said, finishing her fourth drink before standing up. “See you tomorrow.”

“Have fun,” he chuckled.

He couldn’t help watching as she swayed over towards the student, whose mouth opened, entranced, as the brunette beauty advanced on him. She leaned over him, inadvertently giving Geralt a good view of the curve of her leather-clad ass, which was delightfully round despite her slim frame, and whispered something in his ear, before making her way out of the tavern. She nearly tripped on a chair, but managed to regain her balance by grabbing onto a passing patron and causing her to spill the two drinks she was carrying.

“Sorry,” Theora said cheerfully, tossing the offended woman a few crowns before stumbling out the door. Moments later, the dark-haired student stood up and followed, receiving a few cheers and pats on the back from his peers.

Geralt shook his head. Starved of company, he stayed until the tavern began to quieten down, at which point Stjepan sat down opposite him and wordlessly pulled out a gwent deck, smiling.

Long black locks tickled Geralt’s chest, and violet eyes transfixed him in their gaze. She laughed softly, and slowly stroked up his thigh towards his crotch. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end in anticipation. “Enjoying your dreams, Geralt?” she smiled. “I miss you.”

“I know you, Yen. I doubt you’re missing me that much,” Geralt said.

_A finger ran lightly up his length. “Oh, I’ve had a few nobles, and a couple of timid servants, if that’s what you’re asking,” she laughed. “But I do miss you. And not _just because of your cock.”

Geralt smiled. “Miss you too.”

She lingered for a while, teasing his head with a fingertip, before laying an ethereal kiss on his lips and fading from his senses. He breathed in deeply through his nose to savor the last of her scent.

His eyes opened slowly. Stretching, he became aware of a large tent in his covers, and he sighed in exasperation. “Dammit, Yen,” Geralt muttered to himself.

As he perused the noticeboard, Geralt heard the familiar footsteps of Theora, and he glanced over to see the female witcher, her hair slightly ruffled, walking towards him.

“There you are,” Geralt muttered.

“What?” she smiled. “The kid had stamina. And we went again this morning.”

“Glad you had fun,” he said, standing up. “Got a contract here. Kikimore nest.”

“Kikimores are right bastards though,” Theora said. “Although with two witchers … could be doable I suppose. Or,” she grinned, pointing to another notice. “We could go and see Dandelion and Callonetta perform at the Academy. Oh hang on, that’s not for a couple of weeks.”

“Exactly. Was planning on doing that anyway,” Geralt said.

Looking into the burrow, Geralt considered their options as he smeared Insectoid Oil along his silver blade, then handed the vial over to Theora. She followed suit.

“So, what’s the plan?” she asked. “Judging by the tracks there are at least twenty of the scuttly little twats.”

“And a queen,” he added.

“Yup.” Theora licked a finger and held it up, testing the air. “It looks like there’s only one entrance.”

“Go in hard, don’t get cut off,” Geralt said as he took a couple steps forward, then stopped as she grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait, that’s your plan?” she asked. “That’s not even a ploughing plan!”

“Never said it was,” Geralt said. “Find it simpler not to make plans – they always go wrong.”

Theora rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s just silly. If we strategize first, we can always fall back on your ‘plan’. Right?”