The creak of the wooden floor was a constant, going into your eardrums and letting you know that someone was approaching. So many went and came, passing by you, some tapping your shoulder or mumbling greetings, but most didn't spare you a look. Too scared to talk to one of the few women in the Watch. They'd been constantly warned about the disrespect and borderline assault. To them, not talking to you seemed like a safer option to their restricted minds.

Winter had started around a week ago, the view got exponentially more hazy, the snow already got in the way during the summer, so with it constantly falling, it was even harder to see down the wall.

Heavy skin coats, layers and layers of undergarments, boots that made noise wherever they stepped, gloves that made a barrier so thick you couldn't feel anything you touched, the hood to keep your hair from completely freezing — all to still shiver under the snow. You wondered if this was really where you belonged.

This time, you didn't hear the boards creaking, didn't feel the presence behind you, and barely heard the voice speaking to you.

"... do you need a break?" Suddenly, her voice became clear, and you turned around to face her.

Abigail of House Anderson, the only other woman in the Night's Watch, stood in front of you, giving you the same confused look she always gave when she caught you in one of your reveries. To you, that was just Abby.

She noticed you didn't hear, and a playful smile appeared on her lips. "Lost in thought again, huh? I wonder what you spend so much time brooding about." she said.

She was the only one who spoke lightly to you, who sat with you during supper, who shared tips when you first joined the Brotherhood. You were sure you wouldn't survive The Watch without her around.