Blood...
It was always the smell of blood on its permanently stained muzzle. It didn't care where it came from, just that it knew only the smell. That and the heart. The heart smelled divine to it's nose, it could never have enough. Like an aged wine, it thought. Currently it was hunting deer just on the outskirts of a small town. It didn't matter where, just as the beast learned to delay it's presence from being discovered.
It didn't matter how much game the beast spared, eventually they would notice the lack of abundant deer in their woods. The scent of blood was stronger now; It was getting close. Slowly, it stalked towards the deer, the monster's vague shape reflecting on the moonlight. It wasn't as blessed as it's other brethren in terms of color- it boasted a snow white fur all over it's body. Just a bit closer... it thought, fangs bared and claws at the ready.
The moon shone closer to the horizon- it was close to that time, which meant the beast had to act quickly. Letting out a snarl, it leapt and skewered the deer with it's elongated claws, pulling the ribcage aside with the other set. Happily, it cut and diced the meat of its latest victim aside, hungry for only one thing that would satisfy it- the heart. Suddenly, it heard a noise- a branch breaking. Tossing it's meal aside like a used napkin, it spun around only to find it's neck at the end of a blade.
Normally, a trivial endeavor due to the steel of man having no effect. However, this blade shone as bright as it's coat; Silver, burning it's neck at the point of contact.
"Well?" A gruff voice spoke. Looking up he could see a man with a white mane such as it's own. The White Wolf of Rivia, as known to some in it's community. "I haven't got all day. You gonna fight me? Or are you smart enough to explain why you like only deer hearts?"
It made sense now. A deer, perfectly unaware of a Werewolf at the sharp end of a blade stood just a few feet from the scene. Magic...
The beast snarled. "I prefer living peacefully, knowing too much how the hearts of men become bitter from War." Thrusting backwards, it knocked the Wolf several feet backwards, staggering him but not knocking him completely off balance. Quickly the Wolf got into a defensive stance.
"Well, given you hit a lot harder and don't resort to violence at the first sign of trouble, you're a very old Werewolf. Highborn from the looks of it too." The Wolf spoke, it's slitted eyes peering at the beast.
"Correct..." it said, cautiously circling the White Wolf. "Witcher." The eyes gave it away. "I'm guessing the town nearby finally took notice of their game disappearing?"
The Wolf chuckled. "No, this was a courtesy call. I was paid to drain your blood to cure someone. Lycanthropy has cures." He sheathed his silver blade. "I'm looking to spare you, seeing as you're not preying on humans."
Still guarded, the beast circled. "Not many live to tell the tale once they out away their weapons, Witcher. What makes you any different?" It smiled devishly, circling a bit closer this time. "After all, I hear Witcher hearts taste extra delicious!"
"Whoever told you that lie should be killed as well. Us Witchers are mutated to the very core. Not a single bit of salvageable organs on us, I'm afraid." Searching through his bags, he brought out an empty vial and small silver dagger. "Just enough to fill this vial is all I'm asking for.
Still, the beast hesitated. Humans have tricked it before, and it didn't change its mind when it came to Witchers. to show further pacifism, the Witcher sat down on its knees, looking on. Finally relenting, the Werewolf kneeled face-to-face in front of him, holding out it's arm. "You will not tell the village of me?"
Slicing the palm of its hand open, he held the vial underneath, letting the blood drip. "No. Fair warning though, other Witchers may wander here, and they might see a notice posted for the lack of game. They won't be as lenient." After a few more moments of silence, the vial was filled. "There, now let me-" Suddenly the ground shook and ominous sparks flew around the pair, exciting the air with magic.
"Trickery!" The beast bared it's fangs and lunged for the Witcher, both disappearing with a swift bang. The swirling of magic died and the ground shook no more.
"I'm sorry old friend..." Were the last words they both heard before leaving this plane of existence for good...
"AAAGH!" A butter yellow Pegasus yelled at the top of her lungs. A silvery white monster currently had it's jaws latched onto the center of her body while it's claws swung wildly, maiming the poor pony. "SOMEONE, HELP ME! PLEASE!" Nobody came. It continued for hours until the beast tired and then eventually stood deathly still. Sobbing quietly Fluttershy stood there, a mangled mess and losing a lot of blood. Through her fading vision, she saw a figure lean over and shoved something into her mouth. It tasted like blood. Trying desperately to spit it out, she struggled against this new monster's strange set of appendages, until she was forced to keep her mouth open by the other set. The monster mumbled something in a foreign language before she fell unconscious.
"Hnng!" Geralt held the side of his ribs, looking on at the barely alive Pegasus currently buried underneath the rotting corpse of the Highborn Werewolf he talked with earlier. The portal that warped them both here into this forest was an unknown magic to him. It was powerful... Chaotic even. "AAAGH DAMN!" He howled in pain. Quickly he searched his bags for swallow, only to discover there were none available. Only the Werewolf Concoction he brewed in case things went South, as well as an elixir one of his clients gave him some time ago. The client was an elf mage that needed help with an Ekimmora teaming up with a Godling. A strange pair, but the contract was taken care of nonetheless.
"Take it when life is in the balance, Geralt. It will renew both body and mind..."
Popping the cork, he had no choice. He drank it until every last drop was gone. Staring back at the still conscious Pegasus, he took out the Concoction and stared at it. "Dangerous to humans, but magical creatures..." Looking back at the creature, he could see the life drain from it's eyes. Making up his mind, Geralt took the Concoction and the Werewolf blood and combined the two.
Kneeling down, he held its head still, pouring the drink into the Pegasus' muzzle. "Hold still. Haven't seen your kind in a long time so I'm not sure if this'll even work." At first, it sipped the drink only to spit it out. "Damn it, there's no time for this!" Holding it's jaws open, he practically shoved the bottle down it's throat. Making sure every last drop was drunk, he waited for it to take effect. Fading away, the Pegasus passed out.
"No time to worry if it worked." Gritting his teeth, he forced the Werewolf's jaw open, prying the creature loose. To make sure the monster was dead and not just pretending, he took his sword and plunged it into its head, taking the dagger that pierced it's heart out. He slipped it there when it lunged, before they both disappeared to... Wherever this was. Lifting the Pegasus onto his back, Geralt used his heightened senses to smell his way through the forest, following a heavily herbal scent someways further in.
Grunting, he could feel the potion he drank take effect. The gash across his torso faded quickly. "Good, now all I have to do is get this Pegasus to the nearby Potions Master, if I'm guessing correctly. Then it's a matter of finding my way back to... Back t-to-" a splitting headache formed, suddenly alarming the Witcher. "That elf said 'body and mind'..." His eyes opened a bit wider and his pace quickened. "Gotta hurry!"
Weaving past the thickening tree Vines and branches, Geralt slowly forgot his past. Ciri, the war... Yennifer; nothing was saved from the spell of the potion. "Gotta...get to... That scent!" He huffed through breaths. Suddenly, a small clearing appeared and what looked like a small hut stood in the center. Quickly, Geralt knocked on the small door before passing out...