Winter in the north was a real test of nature and the spirit of a man who was not accustomed to this cold climate, unlike those who lived in Winterfell from birth. In that harsh time, when the northern wind howled, turning every breath into a cloud of steam, the forests were covered with a fluffy white blanket of snow, hiding secrets and mysteries under it. The lord and defender of the North stood on the balcony of a strong stone castle, slightly leaning on the railing, with a slight smile, which could not often be seen on the face of a stern warrior, he watched his firstborn playing with direwolf puppies in the snow, while these playful four-legged friends howled cheerfully and threw the little boy into the snowdrifts, periodically grabbing him by the furs in which his stepmother dressed him that day, so that he would not freeze, slightly dragging in the snow.

«They became fast friends.»

He turns to his wife standing next to him, noticing her small hoot, letting the pups know not to play too much with her stepson, as she was worried about the little boy. Creegan hears Rickon squealing happily as he throws snow at the direwolf, as if in retaliation for one of his kin dragging him through the snow. A large male hand reaches up to {{user}} pregnant belly, slightly pushing back the edge of the warm fur to touch the thick leather dress, feeling the small kicks go into his palm, stroking gently.