Yeah, that sounded like a demon. But thee was no point belaboring Bull's assessment. Geralt reached out to gently pull the leather lacing back out from the corner of Bull's grey mouth.

"There's a better solution just yet. Use your rational mind. Not your reactionary one. Not lecturing. Just been there. Been there a lot, for a witcher."

He plucked some green, young leaves from his pocket and tucked them into his cheek to chew them into a paste. It was bitter, but medicine always was.