Winter at Kaer Morhen always held the most interesting things happen, the most intriguing events. Zerrin sipped at a mug of warm honey wine, the drink warming his old bones, he didn’t even bother to cover up the yawn that tore out of him. Licking his lips and tracing his teeth with his tongue, the old Bear leaned against a balcony railing that overlooked the training yard, covered in snow but not enough to halt the daily training.
Zerrin watched over the rim of his mug as the Wolf Witcher’s sluggishly moved about, collecting their gear for training, his brow lifting some as he cupped his hands over the warm mug and watched as the White Wolf’s guests now walked into the courtyard.
He watched as the bouncy bard pranced his way into the snow, kicking up the powder in a playful manner towards Geralt’s Child Surprise, the raven-haired woman scoffing loud enough for Zerrin to hear it from his vantage point. Zerrin rolled his eyes, he didn’t like this woman, too serious, too rude, too… everything.
The Bear continued to watch as the bard and the woman began bickering, getting in each other’s faces. The Child Surprise trying to get them to stop but failed to wiggle her way between them, so she ended up calling for Geralt’s help.
The Wolf just sighed heavily and barked at the two to stop, both of them turning a glare towards the Witcher before stomping off in opposite directions. Zerrin snorted over his mug, shaking his head, as he saw Geralt torn to who he should go after before he settled on leading the Child over to the training equipment and began helping her pick out the tools that would work well for her.
“You are up early,” Zerrin looked over his shoulder, smirking at Vesemir as the Eldest Wolf Witcher walked over to him, wrapping his arms around Zerrin’s waist. “I half expected you to be asleep till midday.”
“Mmmm, not yet. Too early yet,” Zerrin groused, turning his gaze back towards the training yard. Both Elders rolling their eyes as the woman’s voice echoed up, her voice pitched high and irritated, pointing angrily at the bard who was sitting off to the side and minding his own business. “Maybe another week or two and I’ll be asleep for hours,” Zerrin teased, laughing when Vesemir poked his sides before slipping next to him and stealing the mug from his hands.
“I miss anything?” Vesemir asked, taking a drink of the wine.
“Nothing much,” Zerrin took his mug back when Vesemir finished his swallow, taking his own drink before leaning heavier against the railing. “Has Geralt always been an idiot when it came to feelings?” Zerrin asked with a tilt of his head, Vesemir scoffed.
“Always. He has the “Witcher’s have no feelings” ingrained in his brain,” Vesemir said with a roll of his eyes and Zerrin laughed, shaking his head.
“Wow,” Both Bear and Wolf looked over the edge to see Geralt standing between the woman and the bard now, guarding the smaller man against the raging sorceress, the bard clinging to the White Wolf with gusto. “It’s a good thing he’s pretty.”
Vesemir slapped Zerrin with an undignified squawk before both Witcher’s burst into laughter, drawing attention from the courtyard.
