he had dreamed of winterfell, but the memory
had faded with the first light. this was the day,
today he would finally ride off to the place of
his birth, the lands he was heir to, where his
family would await him. his thoughts would
oft wander off, and instead of considering his
actual plan, he would think of what he would
do when he reached the iron islands. in truth,
he barely remembered what pyke looked like,
the people or the customs. his only memories
were of his brothers and of his mother's lap,
and this time he wouldn't see much of either.
he had had his horse saddled and supplies packed before
he strode towards his king's tent, clad in white and grey, so
he would not forget where he belonged, garb he would have
stripped off sooner than he would ever have expected.
he bowed low as his king stepped outside, ready to bid him goodbye.
❝ your grace... ❞