video;

[thanks_bunches]

[ Geralt has been keeping himself to himself lately, ever since the adventurers had come back from the sea with fragments of the door. The strange emotional effects that swept over the Islands seemed to have struck Geralt, catching him off guard.

He was holding something in his hands, the phone sat on a rock at his side, along with a vast amount of empty bottles of alcohol he'd brought with him. It looked like a woman's coat, old Victorian style with delicate little intricate embodiment around the buttonholes, cuffs and collar. Geralt looked somber, as if the item of clothing meant something to him. ]

I can't tell if this means she's dead or... She was here one moment, gone the next.

[ Okay, so your resident Witcher might be a little bit drunk and emotional, thanks Gods. He's in no fit state to be out alone right now, lord only knows what he might do when his mood changes. ]

Her scent is faint. It's still warm, traces of heat but... I can't sense her.