Sharp As a Witcher

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Muircat

The meerkat (Suricata suricatta) or suricate is a small mongoose found in southern Africa. It is characterised by a broad head, large eyes, a pointed snout, long legs, a thin tapering tail, and a brindled coat pattern. The head-and-body length is around 24–35 cm (9.4–13.8 in), and the weight is typically between 0.62 and 0.97 kg (1.4 and 2.1 lb). The coat is light grey to yellowish-brown with alternate, poorly-defined light and dark bands on the back. Meerkats have foreclaws adapted for digging and have the ability to thermoregulate to survive in their harsh, dry habitat. Three subspecies are recognised. Meerkats are highly social, and form packs of two to 30 individuals each that occupy home ranges around 5 km2 (1.9 sq mi) in area. There is a social hierarch… more »

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I stumbled 'pon a man
On a road not far Kaer Morhen            
His hair as white as the snow

A wolf upon his chest
And a sword of shining silver
A hunter of the dire monster foe

I kept him at my side
As we walked the woods together
For a fool was I not on this night

A rustlin' from the brush
And a shadow tow'red before us
A beast, a monster, a blight

Oh, a monster's teeth are sharp
But a Witcher's whits are sharper
And he leaped as a white wolf at feed
As blade and claw exchanged
And the night grew only darker
The beast, from his head, was he freed

We parted ways at dawn
Where the road split ever onward
We now at the mercy of fate

I found the man again
Where the Dyphne joins the Pontar          
A siren at the edge of his blade

Then down, the Witcher fell
In the currents of the river
The hunter had seemed met his end

Then up he came again
And I scarcely could believe it
For a siren's head, had he, in his hands

Oh, a monster's teeth are sharp
But a Witcher's whits are sharper
And it seems that he can't meet defeat
No hell or beast can stand 
When a Witcher's set upon them
And their end, they'll be all glad to meet

I met him yet again
In a tavern by the roadside
And I paid for the tab as we dined

We drank deep of the ale
Till the ale stopped in its flowing
Our ears caught a howl in the night

Then ran the Witcher out
And the crowd was close behind him
As he charged with a blade in his hands

He came back from the dark
With the monster's head a-danglin'
The lycan who'd been plaguing these lands

Oh, a monster's teeth are sharp
But a Witcher's whits are sharper
And there's none who can say what's in store
The claw and fang can fight
But they'll fall like any other
When he goes on his quest evermore

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