Letting himself get worked up might not be the right move right now - the witcher trying to calm him down tells him that, tells him the guy sort of expects Bull to go off on him the same way Bull sort of expects the witcher to change his mind, say Bull needs to die after all - but in the next few seconds that stops mattering, as all the momentum Bull's been building abruptly drops. His ears face front, alert, and then swivel to the side to dip again, not pressing flat to his head but getting close.

Well, shit.

Any hint of a frown disappears into a neutral expression and for a moment Bull goes quiet, studying him. Then he lowers himself so he's half lying down again, leaning on his forearm, low down enough so the witcher can look down at him.

He sighs.

"Guess I've got to be impressed you're still letting some of them go then," he says, tapping a couple fingers on the tent's canvas floor. "Not everyone would after something like that."