Catelyn

           Catelynhadneverlikedthisgodswood. 

           ShehadbeenbornaTully,atRiverrunfartothesouth,ontheRedForkoftheTrident. Thegodswoodtherewasagarden,brightandairy,wheretallredwoodsspreaddappledshadowsacrosstinklingstreams,birdssangfromhiddennests,andtheairwasspicywiththescentofflowers. 

           ThegodsofWinterfellkeptadifferentsortofwood. Itwasadark,primalplace,threeacresofoldforestuntouchedfortenthousandyearsasthegloomycastlerosearoundit. Itsmelledofmoistearthanddecay. Noredwoodsgrewhere. Thiswasawoodofstubbornsentineltreesarmoredingrey-greenneedles,ofmightyoaks,ofironwoodsasoldastherealmitself. Herethickblacktrunkscrowdedclosetogetherwhiletwistedbrancheswoveadensecanopyoverheadandmisshappenrootswrestledbeneaththesoil. Thiswasaplaceofdeepsilenceandbroodingshadows,andthegodswholivedherehadnonames. 

           Butsheknewshewouldfindherhusbandheretonight. Wheneverhetookaman’slife,afterwardhewouldseekthequietofthegodswood. 

           CatelynhadbeenanointedwiththesevenoilsandnamedintherainbowoflightthatfilledtheseptofRiverrun. ShewasoftheFaith,likeherfatherandgrandfatherandhisfatherbeforehim. Hergodshadnames,andtheirfaceswereasfamiliarasthefacesofherparents. Worshipwasaseptonwithacenser,thesmellofincense,aseven-sidedcrystalalivewithlight,voicesraisedinsong. TheTullyskeptagodswood,asallthegreathousesdid,butitwasonlyaplacetowalkorreadorlieinthesun. 

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