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Theon

           ApityNedStarkhadtakenhisdaughterssouth;elsewiseTheoncouldhavetightenedhisgriponWinterfellbymarryingoneofthem.Sansawasaprettylittlethingtoo,andbynowlikelyevenripeforbedding.Butshewasathousandleaguesaway,intheclutchesoftheLannisters.Ashame.

           Thewoodgreweverwilder.Thepinesandsentinelsgavewaytohugedarkoaks.Tanglesofhawthornconcealedtreacherousgulliesandcuts.Stonyhillsroseandfell.Theypassedacrofter’scottage,desertedandovergrown,andskirtedafloodedquarrywherethestillwaterhadasheenasgreyassteel.Whenthedogsbegantobay,Theonfiguredthefugitiveswerenearathand.HespurredSmilerandfollowedatatrot,butwhathefoundwasonlythecarcassofayoungelk...orwhatremainedofit.

           Hedismountedforacloserlook.Thekillwasstillfresh,andplainlytheworkofwolves.Thedogssniffedrounditeagerly,andoneofthemastiffsburiedhisteethinahaunchuntilFarlenshoutedhimoff.Nopartofthisanimalhasbeenbutchered,Theonrealized.Thewolvesate,butnotthemen.EvenifOshadidnotwanttoriskafire,sheoughttohavecutthemafewsteaks.Itmadenosensetoleavesomuchgoodmeattorot."Farlen,areyoucertainwe’reontherighttrail?"hedemanded."Couldyourdogsbechasingthewrongwolves?"

           "MybitchknowsthesmellofSummerandShaggywellenough."

           "Ihopeso.Foryoursake."

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