Good man. [He first feasts on a couple of prawns, taking care not to gobble them down like a boor, before moving onto food with slightly more substance, such as rolls wrapped in seaweed and slithers of cooked fish.]

I have to compliment the city on its food. They manage things with sauces that almost inclines me to put on a few pounds. [It would probably end up turning into muscle, mind you; there isn’t a bit of superfluous fat on his body. He’s a little thin himself due to extended periods without food, perhaps, but he still has the structural integrity of a brick wall, and when his shoulder brushes Julian’s as he reaches for a platter, he’ll undoubtedly feel just how sturdy Geralt is.]