- A Feast for Crows

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- A Feast for Crows
"She licked her lips, remembering. The bleating of the sheep, the terror in the shepherd’s eyes, the sound the dogs had made as she killed them one by one, the snarling of her pack. Game had become scarcer since the snows began to fall, but last night they had feasted. Lamb and dog and mutton and the flesh of man. Some of her little grey cousins were afraid of men, even dead men, but not her. Meat was meat, and men were prey. She was the night wolf. But only when she dreamed."
Lyanna Stark, the queen of love and beauty.
People tend to forget how old Lyanna was when she was crowned at Harrenhal—only 14. I wanted to draw her closer to her age and make her look a bit haunting.
Perched above the window, the Old Bear’s raven peered down at him with shrewd black eyes. My last friend, Jon thought ruefully. And I had best outlive you, or you’ll eat my face as well. Ghost did not count. Ghost was closer than a friend. Ghost was part of him.
the wolves will come again
GHOST THE DIREWOLF, PROTECTOR OF THE STARKS, THE GOODEST BOY IN THE SEVEN KINGDOMS AND THE REALM
“My daughters?”
“They have been with you every day, my lord. Sansa prays quietly, but Arya … ” He hesitated. “She has not said a word since they brought you back. She is a fierce little thing, my lord. I have never seen such anger in a girl.”