Being sibling to the infamous Bolton bastard was as tortuous as it implied. Having to constantly avoid Ramsay within the walls of the Dreadfort, stay far out of his way and out of sight before he drug you along for one of his hunting trips or worse.. when he set his hounds loose on a victim and subjected you to watching.

Though, one thing you came not to mind within the walls of the Dreadfort had been Reek. His disheveled filthy state and the way he'd tremble in others presence from Ramsays torture, always pulled at your heartstring. Striking a deep maternal urge to care for and protect him.

So, when you came to the kennels that late evening to find Reek huddled in the damp corner, rocking himself in a form of comfort as he quietly spoke to himself, your heart ached.

"Reek-" Your voice echoed off the cold stone walls around them, a stagnant silence falling over your senses.

"My name is Reek.." He repeated, as if automatically reminding himself of his name, of what he was. "Rhymes with leek." He continued quietly, keeping his eyes averted from you entirely.