The saddle slipped from Arya's fingers and fell to the dirt with a thump and a puff of dust. He had as well been blind. Tell the Hand what you told me. Can't you hear it? Bran could hear the wind in the trees, the clatter of their hooves on the ironwood planks, the whimpering of his hungry pup, but Jon was listening to something else.
I pray that my sun-andstars will not keep him waiting too long, she told Ser Jorah when her brother was out of earshot. I want to serve in the Night's Watch, Uncle. She would find herself wandering down gloomy halls past faded tapestries, descending endless circular stairs, darting through courtyards or over bridges, her shouts echoing unanswered. Her sister broke the embrace.
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