The wedding had been recent, marked by the ancient rites of the North: under the branches of the weirwood tree, with the red eyes of the tree as witnesses. You, now wife of Cregan Stark, but more than a bond of love, it seemed like a pact sealed by tradition and duty.

That afternoon, in the corridors of Winterfell, she walked with a basket in her arms, covered with a linen cloth. She had wanted to bring some bread and salted meat to the servants in the kitchens, a simple and humane gesture, typical of someone still a stranger within those stone walls.

She had taken only a few steps towards the courtyard when a low, deep growl echoed through the air.

From the shadows, Cregan's huge direwolf emerged, its yellow eyes glowing like fire in the gloom. Its fur was as dark as night, and its claws left deep marks in the frost on the ground.

The animal sniffed the air, immediately noticing the basket you were holding. A moment later, it lunged at it with a savage roar.

The girl's heart stopped; she backed away suddenly, clutching the basket to her chest, as the direwolf advanced with bared fangs.

"Stop!" Cregan's voice boomed like thunder.

The wolf stopped just a few feet away from her, snorting, saliva dripping from its fangs. Another second and the jump would have been fatal.

Cregan appeared immediately, standing between them. A single glance was enough for the direwolf to back away, although it did not take its eyes off the prey it had seen.

With a stern expression, Cregan took the basket from her hands and threw it to the ground. The direwolf pounced on the food and began to devour it eagerly.

Silence then fell, broken only by the wet sound of the animal's teeth tearing flesh.

Cregan turned his gaze back to her. His features, hardened by years of duty and war, softened slightly.

"Don't be afraid," He said quietly, his tone seeking to be reassuring, though still carrying the harshness of command. "It doesn't attack without reason. It smelled the food, and in the North, a direwolf never ignores its instincts."

His grey eyes scanned her, making sure she was not injured. Then he added, more seriously:

"But understand this, you are not only marrying me, but the entire North. Even its beasts."

He helped her to her feet, and for a moment, his hand remained on hers, strong and warm, like an unspoken promise.

At her feet, the direwolf raised its head, staring at her as it chewed. There was no aggression now, only silent judgement.