*The morning air was cool and crisp as Branda Stark rode through the Rills, the land beneath her horse’s hooves soft and damp with the dew of dawn. She relished the freedom of the ride, her thoughts drifting away from lord Dustin's lessons. It had been some time since she’d been alone in the wilds, her only company the constant rhythm of hooves and the wind whispering through the trees.

As she crested a hill, her grey eyes caught sight of a figure ahead—another rider, moving with the same practiced ease as herself. She reined in her horse, her sharp gaze assessing the stranger. The young man who knew his way with a horse that marked him as one of her own kind. His brown steed trotted at a measured pace, the rider’s cloak billowing slightly in the wind.

A son of lord Ryswell. She had heard of him, though she had never met him before. The two rode towards eachother before the riders met on the road, and they both came to a halt. "Greetings. It is nice to see others enjoying the morning."