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"
You
should
not
fight
so
hard
,
boy
.
I
see
you
talking
to
the
heart
tree
.
Might
be
the
gods
are
trying
to
talk
back
.
"
"
The
gods
?
"
he
murmured
,
drowsy
already
.
Osha
’
s
face
grew
blurry
and
grey
.
Sweet
,
dreamless
sleep
,
Bran
thought
.
Yet
when
the
darkness
closed
over
him
,
he
found
himself
in
the
godswood
,
moving
silently
beneath
green
-
grey
sentinels
and
gnarled
oaks
as
old
as
time
.
I
am
walking
,
he
thought
,
exulting
.
Part
of
him
knew
that
it
was
only
a
dream
,
but
even
the
dream
of
walking
was
better
than
the
truth
of
his
bedchamber
,
walls
and
ceiling
and
door
.
It
was
dark
amongst
the
trees
,
but
the
comet
lit
his
way
,
and
his
feet
were
sure
.
He
was
moving
on
four
good
legs
,
strong
and
swift
,
and
he
could
feel
the
ground
underfoot
,
the
soft
crackling
of
fallen
leaves
,
thick
roots
and
hard
stones
,
the
deep
layers
of
humus
.
It
was
a
good
feeling
.
The
smells
filled
his
head
,
alive
and
intoxicating
;
the
green
muddy
stink
of
the
hot
pools
,
the
perfume
of
rich
rotting
earth
beneath
his
paws
,
the
squirrels
in
the
oaks
.
The
scent
of
squirrel
made
him
remember
the
taste
of
hot
blood
and
the
way
the
bones
would
crack
between
his
teeth
.
Slaver
filled
his
mouth
.
He
had
eaten
no
more
than
half
a
day
past
,
but
there
was
no
joy
in
dead
meat
,
even
deer
.
He
could
hear
the
squirrels
chittering
and
rustling
above
him
,
safe
among
their
leaves
,
but
they
knew
better
than
to
come
down
to
where
his
brother
and
he
were
prowling
.
He
could
smell
his
brother
too
,
a
familiar
scent
,
strong
and
earthy
,
his
scent
as
black
as
his
coat
.
His
brother
was
loping
around
the
walls
,
full
of
fury
.
Round
and
round
he
went
,
night
after
day
after
night
,
tireless
,
searching
.
.
.
for
prey
,
for
a
way
out
,
for
his
mother
,
his
littermates
,
his
pack
.
.
.
searching
,
searching
,
and
never
finding
.
Behind
the
trees
the
walls
rose
,
piles
of
dead
man
-
rock
that
loomed
all
about
this
speck
of
living
wood
.
Speckled
grey
they
rose
,
and
moss
-
spotted
,
yet
thick
and
strong
and
higher
than
any
wolf
could
hope
to
leap
.
Cold
iron
and
splintery
wood
closed
off
the
only
holes
through
the
piled
stones
that
hemmed
them
in
.
His
brother
would
stop
at
every
hole
and
bare
his
fangs
in
rage
,
but
the
ways
stayed
closed
.
He
had
done
the
same
the
first
night
,
and
learned
that
it
was
no
good
.
Snarls
would
open
no
paths
here
.
Circling
the
walls
would
not
push
them
back
Lifting
a
leg
and
marking
the
trees
would
keep
no
men
away
.
The
world
had
tightened
around
them
,
but
beyond
the
walled
wood
still
stood
the
great
grey
caves
of
man
-
rock
.
Winterfell
,
he
remembered
,
the
sound
coming
to
him
suddenly
.
Beyond
its
sky
-
tall
man
-
cliffs
the
true
world
was
calling
,
and
he
knew
he
must
answer
or
die
.
They
traveled
dawn
to
dusk
,
past
woods
and
orchards
and
neatly
tended
fields
,
through
small
villages
,
crowded
market
towns
,
and
stout
holdfasts
.
Come
dark
,
they
would
make
camp
and
eat
by
the
light
of
the
Red
Sword
.
The
men
took
turns
standing
watch
.
Arya
would
glimpse
firelight
flickering
through
the
trees
from
the
camps
of
other
travelers
.
There
seemed
to
be
more
camps
every
night
,
and
more
traffic
on
the
kingsroad
by
day
.
