"It's cold," Milva muttered under her breath as she was absent-mindedly checking the tips of her arrows.
Cahir scooted closer to her in a way that made Milva think he was trying to be inconspicuous. Dandelion grunted in agreement. Regis seemed eager to reply with one of his trademark smart-ass comments, but stopped himself when he remembered the various vulgar expressions thrown his way by Milva just a few hours prior. Geralt fought the childish urge to smirk at the others' misfortune.
Dandelion sighed dramatically - not that he could sigh in any other way - and claimed: "I give up! Why must we suffer, while a certain mutated individual gets to sit right there with a warm butt?"
Regis couldn't help himself this time. "Dandelion, you are the absolutely last person who should complain right now, seeing as it it you who is currently warming his butt under not only yours, but also both mine and Geralt's blankets."
"He's right, you know," Geralt said, joining in. "This is one of your subtle ways to tell me that we should cuddle, and it's useless."
The fact that witchers had high body temperatures caused by the mutations they had gone through was, of course, correct. Dandelion didn't figure it out right away; no, it was on a particularly cold night that he desperately suggested platonic snuggles to the witcher in order to share some warmth. After a while, Geralt figured out a thing about the bard in return - he liked to cuddle.
What he most certainly didn't expect, though, was a vampire sharing the same fondness for physical contact as Dandelion did.
"That you should what?" Regis asked, his grin so wide the witcher could almost see his fangs. "Cuddle? That actually sounds like a splendid idea."
Cahir snorted in amusement, but tried to hide it with a cough. Milva, who had spent plenty of time with dryads to be used to cuddling every other night, eyed the witched with an expression that could almost be called hopeful. Dandelion took it a step further, shamelessly pulling off a look that should, by every law, only look cute on puppies and kittens.
Geralt was weak, thus only closed his eyes and waited for the unavoidable. As expected, he soon could feel Dandelion's arms hugging him from one side, Regis' from the other. He might have been a bit wary about having a vampire's fangs so close to his neck, but he definitely preferred that over being closer to a certain Nilfgaardian. Said Nilfgaardian was, at that moment, finding a cozy spot right next to Dandelion, and Milva pressed herself to Regis.
"Listen," she said after a few moments of comfortable silence, "do vampires even feel cold?"
"Of course not," Regis replied with ease.
"Listen," Milva repeated, "mind if we switch? Maybe you're not undead and all that, but this feels like cuddling a rock."
"Why, I choose to be flattered. You know, this is quite the subject we've got here, and especially to an individual like you, Geralt, it must be one of interest. Vampires-..."
"Here we go," Dandelion whispered dramatically.
"Can you not?!" Milva cried, obviously suffering. "It may be a subject of interest for a witcher, but definitely not for me! Now move your smart ass over, vamp, or I'll show Geralt another thing of interest - a higher vampire getting arrow-stabbed in places I'd rather not describe."
Regis struggled not to smile. Whether it was because of Milva's elegant choice of words, or because a stab wound would, to him, be an equivalent of a mosquito bite, nobody knew. Either way, it made him get up and switch spots.
Milva still seemed unsatisfied with the seating arrangement, despite the vampire not really being all that cold, but she didn't say anything further. None of them did, in fact.
And if Geralt happened to have enjoyed the improptu cuddling session, well, there was no way in hell he'd ever have admitted it.