"I don't have a pet," Geralt grumbles. It's not as though he's named the little beast yet or anything like that. "It's just not worth chasing it off."

He's aware of the opening he's leaving by saying that as soon as the words are out of his mouth. He's quiet a beat, but there's no way to take it back now so he pushes forward instead.

"Well, fuck," he says. "Figured you'd outlive me."