Bran

           Branpreferredthehardstoneofthewindowseattothecomfortsofhisfeatherbedandblankets.Abed,thewallspressedcloseandtheceilinghungheavyabovehim;abed,theroomwashiscell,andWinterfellhisprison.Yetoutsidehiswindow,thewideworldstillcalled.

           Hecouldnotwalk,norclimbnorhuntnorfightwithawoodenswordasoncehehad,buthecouldstilllook.HelikedtowatchthewindowsbegintoglowalloverWinterfellascandlesandhearthfireswerelitbehindthediamond-shapedpanesoftowerandhall,andhelovedtolistentothedirewolvessingtothestars.

           Oflate,heoftendreamedofwolves.Theyaretalkingtome,brothertobrother,hetoldhimselfwhenthedirewolveshowled.Hecouldalmostunderstandthem...notquite,nottruly,butalmost...asiftheyweresinginginalanguagehehadonceknownandsomehowforgotten.TheWaldersmightbescaredofthem,buttheStarkshadwolfblood.OldNantoldhimso."Thoughitisstrongerinsomethaninothers,"shewarned.

           Summer’showlswerelongandsad,fullofgriefandlonging.Shaggydog’sweremoresavage.TheirvoicesechoedthroughtheyardsandhallsuntilthecastleranganditseemedasthoughsomegreatpackofdirewolveshauntedWinterfell,insteadofonlytwo...twowheretherehadoncebeensix.Dotheymisstheirbrothersandsisterstoo?Branwondered.

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