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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 74/751
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Yet
now
that
the
last
day
was
at
hand
,
suddenly
Bran
felt
lost
.
Winterfell
had
been
the
only
home
he
had
ever
known
.
His
father
had
told
him
that
he
ought
to
say
his
farewells
today
,
and
he
had
tried
.
After
the
hunt
had
ridden
out
,
he
wandered
through
the
castle
with
his
wolf
at
his
side
,
intending
to
visit
the
ones
who
would
be
left
behind
,
Old
Nan
and
Gage
the
cook
,
Mikken
in
his
smithy
,
Hodor
the
stableboy
who
smiled
so
much
and
took
care
of
his
pony
and
never
said
anything
but
"
Hodor
,
"
the
man
in
the
glass
gardens
who
gave
him
a
blackberry
when
he
came
to
visit
...
But
it
was
no
good
.
He
had
gone
to
the
stable
first
,
and
seen
his
pony
there
in
its
stall
,
except
it
was
n't
his
pony
anymore
,
he
was
getting
a
real
horse
and
leaving
the
pony
behind
,
and
all
of
a
sudden
Bran
just
wanted
to
sit
down
and
cry
.
He
turned
and
ran
off
before
Hodor
and
the
other
stableboys
could
see
the
tears
in
his
eyes
.
That
was
the
end
of
his
farewells
.
Instead
Bran
spent
the
morning
alone
in
the
godswood
,
trying
to
teach
his
wolf
to
fetch
a
stick
,
and
failing
.
The
wolfling
was
smarter
than
any
of
the
hounds
in
his
father
's
kennel
and
Bran
would
have
sworn
he
understood
every
word
that
was
said
to
him
,
but
he
showed
very
little
interest
in
chasing
sticks
.
He
was
still
trying
to
decide
on
a
name
.
Robb
was
calling
his
Grey
Wind
,
because
he
ran
so
fast
.
Sansa
had
named
hers
Lady
,
and
Arya
named
hers
after
some
old
witch
queen
in
the
songs
,
and
little
Rickon
called
his
Shaggydog
,
which
Bran
thought
was
a
pretty
stupid
name
for
a
direwolf
.
Jon
's
wolf
,
the
white
one
,
was
Ghost
.
Bran
wished
he
had
thought
of
that
first
,
even
though
his
wolf
was
n't
white
.
He
had
tried
a
hundred
names
in
the
last
fortnight
,
but
none
of
them
sounded
right
.
Finally
he
got
tired
of
the
stick
game
and
decided
to
go
climbing
.
He
had
n't
been
up
to
the
broken
tower
for
weeks
with
everything
that
had
happened
,
and
this
might
be
his
last
chance
.
He
raced
across
the
godswood
,
taking
the
long
way
around
to
avoid
the
pool
where
the
heart
tree
grew
.
The
heart
tree
had
always
frightened
him
;
trees
ought
not
have
eyes
,
Bran
thought
,
or
leaves
that
looked
like
hands
.
His
wolf
came
sprinting
at
his
heels
.
"
You
stay
here
,
"
he
told
him
at
the
base
of
the
sentinel
tree
near
the
armory
wall
.
"
Lie
down
.
That
's
right
.
Now
stay
--
"
The
wolf
did
as
he
was
told
.
Bran
scratched
him
behind
the
ears
,
then
turned
away
,
jumped
,
grabbed
a
low
branch
,
and
pulled
himself
up
.
He
was
halfway
up
the
tree
,
moving
easily
from
limb
to
limb
,
when
the
wolf
got
to
his
feet
and
began
to
howl
.
Bran
looked
back
down
.
His
wolf
fell
silent
,
staring
up
at
him
through
slitted
yellow
eyes
.
A
strange
chill
went
through
him
.
He
began
to
climb
again
.
Once
more
the
wolf
howled
.
"
Quiet
,
"
he
yelled
.
"
Sit
down
.
Stay
.
You
're
worse
than
Mother
.
"
The
howling
chased
him
all
the
way
up
the
tree
,
until
finally
he
jumped
off
onto
the
armory
roof
and
out
of
sight
.
The
rooftops
of
Winterfell
were
Bran
's
second
home
.
His
mother
often
said
that
Bran
could
climb
before
he
could
walk
.
Bran
could
not
remember
when
he
first
learned
to
walk
,
but
he
could
not
remember
when
he
started
to
climb
either
,
so
he
supposed
it
must
be
true
.
To
a
boy
,
Winterfell
was
a
grey
stone
labyrinth
of
walls
and
towers
and
courtyards
and
tunnels
spreading
out
in
all
directions
.
