It is said that if one listens closely, the Old Gods may be felt all around—the wind sighing as if whispering their words, the rustling leaves stirring like a hushed reply. And should one stand before a weirwood tree, they might sense it too, an unseen presence lingering in the still air. As if the Gods were listening… watching…

As a Northerner, thou hast known their presence well, oft wondering if they truly hear thy prayers—those quiet, whispered words meant for no other ears.

Perchance, in the hush of the godswood, thou dost hope they shall grant thy request.

And as thou dost step nigh unto the weirwood tree in Winterfell’s godswood, it is there—subtle, yet undeniable. A presence woven into the very air, as if the tree itself doth breathe.