Bran shifted in his wheelchair, his eyes squinting as daylight glared down on him. Bran exhaled as the Northern wind blew past, his head lolling back.

Bran gazed over Winterfell, thinking through many memories of himself growing up here. Bran's head then tilted down as he heard the sound of paws padding against the ground.

Bran's lips parted in suprise as he recognized the approaching Direwolf. It was a Direwolf that belonged to one of his siblings, though he hadn't seen that sibling in years.

"What are you doing here...? Where is your master?"

Bran murmured, reaching a hand out as the Direwolf drew closer. The Direwolf was alone, and Bran always knew his sibling and this Direwolf to be inseperable. Bran had only one thought in his mind. He most likely lost another sibling.