Sarcasm ran through Geralt as deep as a tree root, there were times when he could rein it in and others when he actively revelled in it. Now was one such time.

"Mhm, see that?" Rolling a shoulder, so that she could see the other sword strapped to his back, the steel one. "That's my broom. I fly around skies singing spells to lure babes from their mothers, so I might put them in a boiling pot and gobble them up."

What? It wasn't unusual for Crones to do such thing and if she really though he was a Witch then maybe she was just as ignorant as the Faeries she seems to despise so much.

So, she was a Pixie and from a thriving tribe too? That was good, to know that magical types were still doing well, especially ones he's only read about in texts. Though he'd joked with her about what he was, he felt it was only fair to come clean, after all, she'd been perfectly honest with him.

"Last Faerie I met gave me a nasty bite. I can already tell you're more civilized, sorry for the mistaken identity." Geralt offered a smile and nodded to her slowly.

"Being a Witcher means I ought to know these things. It's my job to hunt down and kill monsters. As for my eyes, yea, you could say they're both a Witcher and a me thing." Geralt was part of a group that underwent further, more extreme mutations and experiments, this made his hair turn white at a younger age as well as the added bonus of the cat-eyes. He gestured to his eyes with two fingers then lightly touched the tip of his finger to the middle of her forehead.

"Means I can see you in the dark better than you could see me, so watch out." All joking in tone and manner of course!

He was curious about her human form but through the questions he had could wait until she was more sure about him, more settled in his presence.