A whooping gang of small children went running past, chasing a rolling hoop. Where are the healers? she demanded. The silent presence of the direwolf gave him comfort. The skin had smelled of blood and mold, but it was warm and thick.
Home, he said. The door to Mormont's solar was wide open. I don't understand, she said. Desmond and Fat Tom had dragged the man to the stump.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.