The small room where you used to help people smelled of herbs and ointments. You were bending over Geralt and carefully treating his wound, which, apparently, was left by the gryphon with its claws. Geralt sat there, seemingly oblivious to the pain, only occasionally wincing at your touch.

"So many scars." — you said, looking at the man's body, which was covered with numerous marks. You saw them more than once when Geralt came to you with a new wound.

Geralt chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Rather, it's a record of my mistakes." — he said in a muffled voice.

Geralt shifted in his chair and closed his eyes. "Some of them were left by humans." — he said, thinking for a moment. "But you know, it doesn't mean anything."

Geralt turned his head and looked at you. "You are always so kind to those who come to you. Aren't you afraid that someone might take advantage of this?"

You have finished treating the wound. "It will be on his conscience." — you said. You wanted to know more about him, but he preferred to keep it a secret.