[He swallows the remainder of gin in his glass before topping it back up, spilling some of it onto the coffee table. He’s descended into the warm, fuzzy stage of intoxication and he can’t seem to bring himself to care about the mess he’s made.]
The ailments they’ve been established to help aren’t always, or perhaps even often the selling point. Hence, they’re more profitable than cabbages. But there’s no shame in ignorance. We’ve been brought to a place where medical practices on either of our worlds are seen as outdated at best and barbaric at worst.
And indeed, grandmothers and grandfathers both. A cabbage farmer could be sure of the patronage of one age bracket, at the very least.
[Vesemir certainly never shied away from pushing cabbage on his young wards, and not even particularly well prepared cabbage at that. It promotes growth and good health, he would say, but Geralt would still hide it in his drinking mug and throw it out once Vesemir wasn’t looking.]
no subject
The ailments they’ve been established to help aren’t always, or perhaps even often the selling point. Hence, they’re more profitable than cabbages. But there’s no shame in ignorance. We’ve been brought to a place where medical practices on either of our worlds are seen as outdated at best and barbaric at worst.
And indeed, grandmothers and grandfathers both. A cabbage farmer could be sure of the patronage of one age bracket, at the very least.
[Vesemir certainly never shied away from pushing cabbage on his young wards, and not even particularly well prepared cabbage at that. It promotes growth and good health, he would say, but Geralt would still hide it in his drinking mug and throw it out once Vesemir wasn’t looking.]