the weeks on the road have been rough, Winterfell has fallen. It’s just you and Osha in the early morning sun as the other two go to hunt. The mist it’s still laying on the grass, your dire wolf- summer, has begun growling to the trees. Soon after, Osha goes off with a spear. But as she’s gone a figure lurks up, empty handed and a smirk on his face. The boy from your dream

“I am unarmed,” he smiles, his hand calming your wolf in a second