Catelyn

           Mylady,yououghtcoveryourhead,"SerRodriktoldherastheirhorsesploddednorth."Youwilltakeachill."

           "Itisonlywater,SerRodrik,"Catelynreplied.Herhairhungwetandheavy,aloosestrandstucktoherforehead,andshecouldimaginehowraggedandwildshemustlook,butforonceshedidnotcare.Thesouthernrainwassoftandwarm.Catelynlikedthefeelofitonherface,gentleasamother’skisses.Ittookherbacktoherchildhood,tolonggreydaysatRiverrun.Sherememberedthegodswood,droopingbranchesheavywithmoisture,andthesoundofherbrother’slaughterashechasedherthroughpilesofdampleaves.SherememberedmakingmudpieswithLysa,theweightofthem,themudslickandbrownbetweenherfingers.TheyhadservedthemtoLittlefinger,giggling,andhe’deatensomuchmudhewassickforaweek.Howyoungtheyallhadbeen.

           Catelynhadalmostforgotten.Inthenorth,therainfellcoldandhard,andsometimesatnightitturnedtoice.Itwasaslikelytokillacropasnurtureit,anditsentgrownmenrunningforthenearestshelter.Thatwasnorainforlittlegirlstoplayin.

           "Iamsoakedthrough,"SerRodrikcomplained."Evenmybonesarewet."Thewoodspressedclosearoundthem,andthesteadypatteringofrainonleaveswasaccompaniedbythesmallsuckingsoundstheirhorsesmadeastheirhoovespulledfreeofthemud."Wewillwantafiretonight,mylady,andahotmealwouldserveusboth."

           "Thereisaninnatthecrossroadsupahead,"Catelyntoldhim.