thewhxtewclf:
STARTER FOR @onthehuntdown
It’d been a pit of empty, cold darkness on the other side. Jon had been raised believing that there was more after death–that he’d see his family and be reunited once more. The religious communities in Westeros had been so very, very wrong in their beliefs. He’d been terrified and lost when he had died. His thoughts had been of betrayal and grief.
But Jon was back, alive and warm–not the cold, deteriorating corpse lying among the cold snow.
His gaze was settled on the fire before him, his mind a mess of memories and emotions he didn’t have the patience to sort. Jon’s fingers combed through his dark hair, a deep sigh leaving his lips.
Losing Jon had been the largest heartbreak felt since Winterfell was taken. Siblings were scattered to the wind and the worst of Winters was upon them, at last. Years of hearing humans speak their stories, the time spent listening to the red woman from a distance. Every creature was about to face new things, new terrifying things -- but Ghost. Ghost had been given the chance at what was impossible. Humans would never cage him again. Jon would never be out of his sight again.
The way his ears and tail are set -- he’s still worried. Jon was lost to him, but he came back and the stories weren’t true. There was nothing. Nothing for them after they died. Was that only a rule for humans? Had Jon simply been dead for too short a time? Did the Gods know there was more for Jon to do and that’s why they hadn’t let him pass? See anything? A whine sounds and he bumps his snout against one of Jon’s hands before he carefully mouths at fingers.
