Brienne did not know exactly where she was, so easily turned around in the place where everything looked the same. She tied the large horse to a tree and took several steps towards a movement in the trees. With luck it would be game. And then it became clear it was not. Wildlings, plural though she saw but one, he was not likely to be alone. Not like she was.
The figure in the trees was smaller than her, but quick. She shivered both from the chill in the air and the fear of facing an enemy unknown, alone. Though no matter where she was now, there was always an enemy to face. Renly’s camp had shown her that, and the men at the wall had only served as a reminder. Still she wished for another to draw a sword with her against attack. It was not something she would get.
She drew her blade from her belt, thankful that she at least had it. But still she wished that she had not stopped here to rest her mount. Wished she had not insisted on her position, fought for it. This was her punishment, death in the vast wilds of this northern hellscape.