Jon didn’t quite know what to do, the small white ball of fur wrapped up in his cloak. Somehow Jon had convinced his father to keep the litter, it was the sigil of the stark house after all. There was enough pups for each of the Stark children, then this one in the brush, for him too.

He cradled the pup in his arms as he walked to his room. What the hell was he going to do with this thing? A runt, another poor misbegotten.

“Easy there little thing…” He murmured as he shut his door.