It had been four hours of sitting, waiting, preparing…and his patience was finally about to pay off, for it seemed the escaping fog from something else’s lungs had entered the fray. The steam of his breath was the only sign that he was the lone living, breathing thing among the inanimate trees…and not some statue erected to appease the tree fairies. The full moon illuminated the snowy field in front of Geralt in a hue of deep blues and shimmering purples, but the witcher didn’t need his magical elixir to see in the dark this night. Two infernal flames softly glowing among the white forest that surrounded him. His eyes were poised like daggers in the snow.
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