Geralt of Rivia was walking through a seemingly barren forest, dragging his sword beside him as the sharp end scraped the ground, he clutched the hilt, listening to his surroundings... everything was a decent, quiet volume. Before he suddenly heard rustling in the bushes, he swiftly spun around to the direction of the noise and lifted his sword.

It went silent again, and now Geralt was on edge, staying observant to every little rustle in his surroundings.