Your blood has frozen in your veins and your face has a look of terror on it. You're afraid. But what are you afraid of, Jon? Death? Ha-ha, no. But what then, Jon? Are you afraid of him? Ha-ha, no. You're afraid of the trap you've fallen into. But don't forget who the hunter is, Jon. He's coming. Or it's coming. All that's left of his feline features are ears and remnants of coarse fur. Who cares when you die? They all died. You're so pathetic, Jon.