Young Geralt

"Look, Vesemir, that Bloedzuiger mutagen is incredible! I'm so flexible now!"
"You're not in a circus, Geralt. Get back to practice!"

"But can I stretch some more after practice? It's really fun!"

"Vesemir, I saw Geralt today..."
"Enjoyed the free circus?"
"That's... beyond the point. The point is, why waste precious ingredients on something so useless?"
"Why not? Are you jealous, Lambi?"
"Let's say... I could probably find a better use for it than running around Kaer Morhen half naked, screaming 'Guys check out what else I can do!!'"
"Haha, like what?"
"Like... falling off a cliff and magically not breaking my back?"
"Ouch, why fall off a cliff in the first place? Are you stupid?"
"I wouldn't. And I'm not. That was just an example."
"Come on, you just want to challenge Geralt to a bend off."
"And what if I do, Vesemir? You still got the potion left?"
"Seems we're going to have a spectacular evening..."

"That sure was a lifetime ago," Geralt muttered to himself, looking at all the planks and stones of Kaer Morhen that were once so fun to climb and balance upon while pulling some of the most incredible acrobatic postures. "Wonder if I still got the backbone for something like that..."

"Don't push your luck with your back," his old teacher Vesemir patted the witcher on the shoulder. "Wouldn't try it on one of these rotten planks if I were you. Bruises from clumsy falls never look as cool as scars obtained in battles."

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