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There's an egg on her pillow. A tiny, speckled, pale purple egg. It's about two inches from her nose and Ciri's never been gladder that she's not someone that moves a lot in her sleep. It likely wouldn't be comfortable digging into her head or worse, an eye.
She slowly pushes herself up so she's sitting, but despite her care it slides down and nearly disappears into her quilt before she manages to catch it. It doesn't break as she grabs at it, harder than she should. Its not a real egg then, but its also not something she's familiar with. Heavier than she expected too, solid. It smells sweet, not like fruit, more like the little cakes Lambert occasionally makes.
Looking over at the clock she's surprised to see its almost eight, much later that she tries to wake up to help with the morning chores. There's also another egg on the small stack of books on the bedside table, this one yellow. It takes her a moment to work out why she's slept in so much; her bedroom door is shut. She always leaves it open a little so she doesn't feel shut in. And so Mor, the ranch's giant black dog, can nose her way in if she wants to cuddle. Maybe whoever left the eggs didn't want her to try to eat them.
Ciri hasn't been here at the ranch long, only a handful of months since Geralt brought her after her parents passed. It's been a big change, and she's still getting used to the rhythm and the rules, missing her mamma fiercely. But she loves the work; helping with the horses and handful of sheep, basic potion making, the martial arts and basic sword fighting with her own little wooden sword. All as well as her online school classes and odd days with the local children at the closest school. Yennefer even promised to start teaching her a little magic when she's next there, likely when the weather gets warmer.
Pulling herself out of daydreams of summoning lightning storms, she slides out of bed and picks up the second egg. It looks like the same type as the first, also sweet smelling, and she absently sticks her tongue out to lick it. Definitely sugary. It's one of the witchers that's left them in her room and they wouldn't leave anything dangerous. They've been very careful to not let her near most of the potions, even when she asked nicely like mamma taught her.
There's another egg on top of her dressing gown where its been thrown over the back of her desk chair, and a fourth on the pile of completed homework. She pads to the window, looking out across the fields towards the cliff edge. The attic bedroom has sloped parts too short for the rest to stand up in but Ciri loves it, it feels cosy, nothing like her old room back with mamma and grandma, big and drafty. Vesemir is in one of the far fields, checking over one of the mares, Rose she thinks, with Mor standing between them and the rest of the herd so they're not disturbed. Below her Lambert's pick up truck is parked up next to Geralt's horsebox which means he's arrived at some point during the night, and there's a motorbike next to it she doesn't recognise.
She pads to her door, bare toes sinking into the plush carpet in a way she's still getting used to. Opening it reveals a little palm sized nest made of woven reeds on the shelf just above the stairs, three more eggs inside. She reaches up and gently pulls it down, giggling as she sees the tiny wooden carved chick that wasn't visible before. It has lopsided eyes and a fluffed up body, and reminds her of the spotted cat statue she's seen on the mantelpiece in Lambert's bedroom.
Tucking her other four eggs inside the nest she carries on, gathering another handful on the way down to the kitchen. There's a voice she doesn't recognise so she stops in the doorway, peaking round to find Lambert and another man in the kitchen. Geralt at the breakfast bar, already looking over with a gentle smile, one of the ones that's more in his eyes than his mouth. He tilts his head in invitation and she can smell pancakes so she tiptoes in, if their guest was someone she shouldn't meet Geralt surely would have told her to go back upstairs.
Instead she hops up onto the stool next to him, keeping him between her and the unfamiliar man. He's pretty, with a deep tan, curled moustache and long hair up in a messy bun. Lambert nods over at her, and begins putting together a plate for her, a small stack of strawberry pancakes with sausage, potato hash and scrambled egg. Witchers, she's found, have strong ideas about protein at breakfast instead of the toast, porridge or cereal she'd been used to before.
She sets down the nest, nearly overflowing with eggs at this point, and reaches for the cutlery instead. Geralt makes a little approving noise, nodding and lightly tugging on the end of her braid as he stands to take his own plate to the sink, kicking the ankle of the pretty man on the way.
"Oh, hello little one, I'm Aiden." He doesn't glare at Geralt, smile not slipping even as Lambert growls at his brother and gets water flicked at him in return.
"Nice to meet you, sir." She bows as much as she can sitting down, nice and polite as she'd been taught.
"None of that, Aiden's fine." He doesn't laugh but she can see he wants to, and she ducks her head to her plate, cheeks warm.
"Aiden's my partner." Lambert sets a big bowl of chopped fruit and berries in the middle of the breakfast bar beside a bowl of cream before taking the end seat, baring his teeth at Geralt when he gets too close. "Fruit as well as the eggs, cub, or I'm sure someone else will eat them."
"Aww, look at you Lam, being all responsible and sh-" Aiden breaks off with a cough and looks over at her. Geralt sighs.
"What are they for?" All three of them turn to her surprised as she waves her fork at the eggs.
"Egg hunt's a spring festival thing round here." Lambert glances over at Geralt, Ciri knows he hadn't told the others the details of why she's staying with them now, but isn't sure how much he'd actually said. "Guess it's not in your part of the world."
"Keeps kids out of the lambing barns." Aiden nods knowingly, and winks at Ciri as he steals some of Lambert's pancake as he splutters a denial.
"They're around the house and garden, not anywhere the animals can get them." Geralt returns to his seat, pulling his laptop from a bag by his feet. "But you might want to hurry before Mor gets back just in case."
She sets down her knife and reaches for one of the eggs, the purple one she first found and carefully bites it in half. It's chocolate! With some kind of harder sugar shell and she crunches the other half with a happy smile. Another thing witchers have opinions on are sweets and chocolates, but here's a whole lot of them, and more around the ranch.
Lambert taps the bowl of fruit with a Look, but relaxes as Aiden wraps an arm round his waist. Ciri dives back into her breakfast, ready to start her search as soon as possible.