Geralt from Rivia

It was late autumn, the day was already cold, the sky was covered with gray clouds, like smoke from a torch. All this was accompanied by the characteristic smell of approaching rain and pine trees. Geralt rode along a forest path, leisurely, having managed to rest a little along the way, he swung his sword. He's alone again...well, not counting the horse, of course. Tsiri is a 'big girl' now; she's gone her own way, and he's gone his...but he knew his girl was out there somewhere, and she was a fine one. Thoughts swirled in his head like a flock of crows, appearing out of nowhere and disappearing just as quickly, replaced by new thoughts... He stared blankly at the pine cones, stones, and branches on the path while he tried to put his head in order. "..."