Prompt 103
Geralt keeps waking up miraculously healed from contracts. Witcher healing is good, yes, but not that good. And it doesn't work if he goes into towns. He's undoubtedly weary of the phenomenon, but he can't exactly do anything about it at the moment. One night, after a hunt was significantly easier than expected, he's hopped up on too many potions, and the world has blurred and everything is TOO MUCH. Except for the soft yellow light in the distance, moving closer to him. As it gets closer, so too do the soft twinkling sounds. The ball of light hums and sings to him, even as he can barely focus on it's presence. He feels warmth in his wretched shaking hands and spares a second to glance at them, watching in shaken awe as a wound heals before his eyes. Ever since the night where he saw the glowing ball, he begins looking for signs of someone or something following him. He's healed and sung to, but what could the creature actually want from him? Why bother with it all? So one night, when he's bandaged up a scratch wound on thigh, he pretends to sleep. He waits, waits, waits, until finally he hears the twinkling chimes. He springs up and forward, snatching it out of the air, and looking at what he's caught, ready to demand answers, only to see a very startled little winged man staring at him. A fairy? "Why do you heal me?" "Because I like you, obviously!" "You don't know me." "Oh, but I do! I've been watching you for a few months now!" "....Hmm." "You're my muse! I've written songs about your adventures, would you like to hear?!"