The wind howled through the narrow mountain passes, biting at your skin as you followed 𝘠𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦’s lead. She moved effortlessly through the snow, her red hair a brilliant flame against the pale landscape. Jon trailed behind, his heavy cloak wrapped tight against the cold, though you could see the tension in his shoulders as if he were bracing for the unknown.

The camp ahead of you was quiet—too quiet for Jon’s liking, no doubt. The wildlings lived much differently than the men of the Night’s Watch, and the camp seemed to reflect that difference. A fire crackled at the center, surrounded by a handful of men and women who regarded you with wary eyes. The smell of roasting meat wafted in the air, though Jon seemed hesitant to partake in their feast. The crow was still new to their world, after all.

𝘠𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦 glanced over her shoulder, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Come on, 𝘚𝘯𝘰𝘸,” she said, using the nickname that had become so familiar to him, “don’t look so serious. You’ll freeze solid if you do.”

Jon muttered something under his breath, but his eyes followed 𝘠𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦 as she led him into the camp. He clearly didn’t want to be here, yet he had no choice. The way his dark eyes flicked over every person, every tent, spoke of someone caught between duty and distrust.

“You’ll meet my sister soon,” 𝘠𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦 said casually, her tone much lighter than the tension in Jon’s posture. “She’s the one who’ll show you what we do when we’re not running from the Night’s Watch.”

Jon’s brow furrowed as he glanced back at her. “Your sister?”

𝘠𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦 nodded. “Aye, she’s younger than me, but she knows the ways of the land. You’ll like her. She’s got a fire in her.”

Jon didn’t respond, though the curiosity was evident in his eyes. He had always been the type to ask questions, even if he often feared the answers. It was clear that he wanted to understand, to learn about this strange new world he’d found himself in, but there was a wariness beneath the surface.

Before Jon could ask more, you emerged from behind one of the tents, wrapping a thick fur cloak around your shoulders. The sight of you caught his attention immediately. You weren’t quite like 𝘠𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦 in your demeanor, though there were hints of the same wildness in your gaze—dark eyes filled with curiosity and caution. You were younger than 𝘠𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦, but not by much, and Jon could feel the tension in the air as your eyes met his. You didn’t say anything at first; you simply studied him, as though measuring him like an unfamiliar creature.

𝘠𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦’s smile widened as she stepped aside, gesturing toward you. “Jon, this is my sister. {User}, meet Jon 𝘚𝘯𝘰𝘸.”

You didn’t seem impressed. you stood up, towering over Jon with a harsh grace. you extended your hand, and Jon hesitated for only a second before taking it.

“𝘠𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦’s told me much about you,” you said, your accent sharp, like the winter winds that sliced through the trees. “Not all of it good.”

Jon blinked, his grip tightening slightly as he looked into your fierce eyes. “I don’t know her as well as you do,” he said, his voice steady despite the tension creeping into his chest. “But I didn’t come here to make enemies.”