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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 158/751
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Teaching
you
how
to
fly
.
"
I
ca
n't
fly
!
"
You
're
flying
tight
now
.
"
I
'm
falling
!
"
Every
flight
begins
with
a
fall
,
the
crow
said
.
Look
down
.
"
I
'm
afraid
...
"
LOOK
DOWN
!
Bran
looked
down
,
and
felt
his
insides
turn
to
water
.
The
ground
was
rushing
up
at
him
now
.
The
whole
world
was
spread
out
below
him
,
a
tapestry
of
white
and
brown
and
green
.
He
could
see
everything
so
clearly
that
for
a
moment
he
forgot
to
be
afraid
.
He
could
see
the
whole
realm
,
and
everyone
in
it
.
He
saw
Winterfell
as
the
eagles
see
it
,
the
tall
towers
looking
squat
and
stubby
from
above
,
the
castle
walls
just
lines
in
the
dirt
.
He
saw
Maester
Luwin
on
his
balcony
,
studying
the
sky
through
a
polished
bronze
tube
and
frowning
as
he
made
notes
in
a
book
.
He
saw
his
brother
Robb
,
taller
and
stronger
than
he
remembered
him
,
practicing
swordplay
in
the
yard
with
real
steel
in
his
hand
.
He
saw
Hodor
,
the
simple
giant
from
the
stables
,
carrying
an
anvil
to
Mikken
's
forge
,
hefting
it
onto
his
shoulder
as
easily
as
another
man
might
heft
a
bale
of
hay
.
At
the
heart
of
the
godswood
,
the
great
white
weirwood
brooded
over
its
reflection
in
the
black
pool
,
its
leaves
rustling
in
a
chill
wind
.
When
it
felt
Bran
watching
,
it
lifted
its
eyes
from
the
still
waters
and
stared
back
at
him
knowingly
.
He
looked
east
,
and
saw
a
galley
racing
across
the
waters
of
the
Bite
.
He
saw
his
mother
sitting
alone
in
a
cabin
,
looking
at
a
bloodstained
knife
on
a
table
in
front
of
her
,
as
the
rowers
pulled
at
their
oars
and
Ser
Rodrik
leaned
across
a
rail
,
shaking
and
heaving
.
A
storm
was
gathering
ahead
of
them
,
a
vast
dark
roaring
lashed
by
lightning
,
but
somehow
they
could
not
see
it
.
