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“Nenneke felt the wound, washed it and began to curse. He already knew this routine by heart. She had started on the very first day, and had never failed to moan when she saw the marks left by the princess of Wyzim's talons. 'It's terrible! To let yourself be slashed like this by an ordinary striga. Muscles, tendons -- she only just missed your carotid artery! Great Melitele! Geralt, what's happening to you? How did she get so close to you? What did you want with her? To mount her?' He didn't answer, and smiled faintly.” — Andrzej Sapkowski
Nenneke felt the wound, washed it and began to curse. He already knew this routine by heart. She had started on the very first day, and had never failed to moan when she saw the marks left by the princess of Wyzim's talons.
'It's terrible! To let yourself be slashed like this by an ordinary striga. Muscles, tendons -- she only just missed your carotid artery! Great Melitele! Geralt, what's happening to you? How did she get so close to you? What did you want with her? To mount her?'
He didn't answer, and smiled faintly.