It was rowdy inside and any moment, Geralt was sure a fight would break out. He had been in enough bars and taverns to know that feeling by heart. It was like an itch that started around his neck and crawled its way down his shoulders and back. Call it a benefit of his enhanced senses or simply an understanding he’d learned through experience. Either way, Geralt could feel something in the bar crowd here stirring towards a certain direction.
But he tried to ignore it. Maybe he and Ciri could have their drink and leave before any trouble got started.
Not that either of them couldn’t handle the entire room by themselves.
Their beers came up and Geralt grabbed his quickly before anyone tried to take it. He handed Ciri her’s as well. He raised them together, a rare smile on his face. “To family. No matter what timeline we’re in.”