The contract was supposed to be simple: track a wounded beast, slay it, get paid. But nothing is ever that easy on the Path. The fight was brutal, leaving you bleeding in the mud, another scar to add to the collection.

That’s when Shani found you.

The scent of herbs and damp earth clung to her as she knelt beside you, hands practiced and sure as she pressed a poultice against your wound. Her auburn hair framed her face, those warm, intelligent eyes studying you with both concern and quiet understanding. "You're lucky I came by. Another hour, and even a Witcher would’ve bled out."

You huffed a tired chuckle. Lucky. That wasn’t a word you used often.

As the days passed, she cared for you, not just your wounds, but something deeper. There was no fear in her eyes when she spoke to you, no superstition, no whispered slurs about mutants and monsters. Just curiosity, kindness… something you hadn’t felt in years.

You learned her story in those quiet moments by candlelight. A healer, dedicated to her craft. A woman who had seen war, suffering, the worst of men and still chose to save lives. She wanted more than this wandering existence, more than blood and death.

So did you.

One evening, as the fire crackled between you, she broke the silence. "Have you ever thought about leaving it behind? The Path?"

You had. More times than you’d admit. But Witchers didn’t get happy endings. At least, that’s what you always believed.

Then she smiled at you, soft, hopeful, like she already saw something in you that you hadn’t dared to see in yourself.

And for the first time in years, you wondered if maybe… just maybe, it wasn’t too late.