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Jon

           Foresterstooktheiraxestothetreesinthewaningafternoonlighttoharvestenoughwoodtoseethemthroughthenight.Ascoreofbuilderssettoclearingbrush,digginglatrines,anduntyingtheirbundlesoffire-hardenedstakes."Iwillhaveeveryopeningintheringwallditchedandstakedbeforedark,"theOldBearhadcommanded.

           Oncehe’dputuptheLordCommander’stentandseentotheirhorses,JonSnowdescendedthehillinsearchofGhost.Thedirewolfcameatonce,allinsilence.OnemomentJonwasstridingbeneaththetrees,whistlingandshouting,aloneinthegreen,pineconesandfallenleavesunderhisfeet;thenext,thegreatwhitedirewolfwaswalkingbesidehim,paleasmorningmist.

           Butwhentheyreachedtheringfort,Ghostbalkedagain.Hepaddedforwardwarilytosniffatthegapinthestones,andthenretreated,asifhedidnotlikewhathe’dsmelled.Jontriedtograbhimbythescruffofhisneckandhaulhimbodilyinsidethering,noeasytask;thewolfweighedasmuchashedid,andwasstrongerbyfar."Ghost,what’swrongwithyou?"Itwasnotlikehimtobesounsettled.IntheendJonhadtogiveitup."Asyouwill,"hetoldthewolf."Go,hunt."Theredeyeswatchedhimashemadehiswaybackthroughthemossystones.

           Theyoughttobesafehere.Thehillofferedcommandingviews,andtheslopeswereprecipitoustothenorthandwestandonlyslightlymoregentletotheeast.

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