"Vesemir, Regis is a friend. Now switch off those monster alerts I know you set up after what happened with the leshee and let him come in. You've adopted a Nilfgaardian as your son, you can get used to a higher vampire, too."
"Cahir isn't a Nilfgaardian."
"You know what I mean. Come now, you cannot let my best friend wait on your doorstep. There's a rainstorm coming."
"You said he died at Stygga," Vesemir grunts, not at all convinced. "Sure it's him?"
"Definitely. I'd recognise the scent anywhere. Wormwood. Aniseed. All those Regis herbs and spices. Gods, I've missed him.
"He regenerated damn fast, even for a vampire."
"He had help."
"I don't like it."
"Regis hasn't drunk blood for centuries. He's a monster by every classification, yes, and he did indulge in the past, but I swear he's the best friend you could possibly imagine."
"First you bring a Princess, then a Nilfgaardian, and now a higher vampire," Vesemir grumbles. "Looks like you want to turn this keep into a bloody menagerie."
"You'll like him, like you've come to like Ciri and Cahir. Just give him a chance. You won't regret it. I didn't for a single second. And, just for the record, I've never brought a Nilfgaardian here."
"Right. Do what you will. You'll do it anyway," Vesemir concedes sullenly. Then his expression changes to one of concern. "Hope Cahir won't be caught in the deluge."
"Don't worry, he'll be alright," Geralt says with a smile. "He's got more lives than a cat."
"I'll better get the fire going. The boy might be soaked like a drowned cat if he doesn't make it home within the next half hour."
"Do that. After you've switched off the alerts."
"Damn you, Wolf," Vesemir mutters. However, he does as asked.