And Geralt is well versed in sarcasm and can take it as well as give it.
His lips press into a thin line, the corners barely lifting in what most would call a fake, but courteous smile; the same smile he's been giving all night, though he's been around now long enough to be able to tell apart the ones that showed up like him from the civilians who have always been there. But there's something about the raven-haired woman sitting across from him that reminds him a little of Yennefer, if only by that sarcasm with which she's speaking.
"You have no idea," he answers, stonefaced. "You must have missed me jumping around and singing jovially at the top of my lungs."
/dies laughing
His lips press into a thin line, the corners barely lifting in what most would call a fake, but courteous smile; the same smile he's been giving all night, though he's been around now long enough to be able to tell apart the ones that showed up like him from the civilians who have always been there. But there's something about the raven-haired woman sitting across from him that reminds him a little of Yennefer, if only by that sarcasm with which she's speaking.
"You have no idea," he answers, stonefaced. "You must have missed me jumping around and singing jovially at the top of my lungs."