Many had at least a reaction when they placed their eyes on the witcher, none of them were pleasant though. None of them were good feelings. Disgust, fright, surprise... And yet, when her eyes were upon him he did not read the exact same reaction as many others. Or perhaps it was the terrible lighting that the cave offered. Sometimes, his ability to see in the dark made it so that faces morphed into something that were not really there, perhaps a symptom of a previous fight that injured his eyes, or maybe a symptom of the same reason that made him a witcher. Who was to know?
What he did know was that they couldn’t keep still. “Let us move on. I promise you I do not wish you any harm. I want to get this done as much as you do.” He reassured with his metallic voice, trying to keep as quiet as it was humanly... Or inhumanly possible in his case.
“I will not ask your reasons or why are you here, but I need to know if you are able to continue by yourself. If you can’t I will ask you to wait here, you might be a liability.”
After this, he realised he didn’t even ask her name, nor she knew his, “The name’s Eskel, by the way.”