With a quick somersault, Geralt put Bull and the silver sword between himself and the harpy. While it was true that Geralt had a witcher's healing, Iron Bull was a wall of muscle. Geralt was too pragmatic in the heat of violence to not use that as part of the battlefield itself.

He reached for the bow and bolt he'd dropped and took the bolt in hand. The last harpy had landed, surrounding them.

"Thanks," he muttered, before rushing the bird, jamming the bolt into its eye socket until he heard it scrape.