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Jon

           TheblackbrothershadleftCastleBlackingoodspirits,jokingandtradingtales,butoflatethebroodingsilenceofthewoodseemedtohavesomberedthemall.Jestshadgrownfewerandtempersshorter.NoonewouldadmittobeingafraidtheyweremenoftheNight’sWatch,afterallbutJoncouldfeeltheunease.Fouremptyvillages,nowildlingsanywhere,eventhegameseeminglyfled.Thehauntedforesthadneverseemedmorehaunted,evenveteranrangersagreed.

           Asherode,Jonpeeledoffhisglovetoairhisburnedfingers.Uglythings.HerememberedsuddenlyhowheusedtomussArya’shair.Hislittlestickofasister.Hewonderedhowshewasfaring.Itmadehimalittlesadtothinkthathemightnevermussherhairagain.Hebegantoflexhishand,openingandclosingthefingers.Ifhelethisswordhandstiffenandgrowclumsy,itwellmightbetheendofhim,heknew.AmanneededhisswordbeyondtheWall.

           JonfoundSamwellTarlywiththeotherstewards,wateringhishorses.Hehadthreetotend:hisownmount,andtwopackhorses,eachbearingalargewire-and-wickercagefullofravens.ThebirdsflappedtheirwingsatJon’sapproachandscreamedathimthroughthebars.Afewshriekssoundedsuspiciouslylikewords."Haveyoubeenteachingthemtotalk?"heaskedSam.

           "Afewwords.Threeofthemcansaysnow."

           "Onebirdcroakingmynamewasbadenough,"saidJon,"andsnow’snothingablackbrotherwantstohearabout."

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