[ she thinks first of her own family — a rarity, for yennefer, given what they had done to her. but the wound is still there beneath everything. she sees its ripples more than its source. she has never missed them.
but isn't there anyone? she has gone so long without companionship, drifting from one thing to another, empty and vapid and perfunctory. there were exceptions. constants. tissaia. geralt. she can't say she misses them. those relationships were too complicated, too sour, for that.
she also doesn't want to have to think about the pang of concern in her chest when she considers tissaia, and what had become of her at sodden hill. ]
No. [ she turns stormy purple eyes away. ] I'm not afflicted by that sort of sentiment. [ she considers the children watching bucky with rapt interest. maybe that's what they see in him that they don't see in her. a softness. had she ever had it? ]
no subject
but isn't there anyone? she has gone so long without companionship, drifting from one thing to another, empty and vapid and perfunctory. there were exceptions. constants. tissaia. geralt. she can't say she misses them. those relationships were too complicated, too sour, for that.
she also doesn't want to have to think about the pang of concern in her chest when she considers tissaia, and what had become of her at sodden hill. ]
No. [ she turns stormy purple eyes away. ] I'm not afflicted by that sort of sentiment. [ she considers the children watching bucky with rapt interest. maybe that's what they see in him that they don't see in her. a softness. had she ever had it? ]