𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉𝑒𝓇 @thundergvds
the bitter chill of the air was comparable to that of a warm embrace. though a child born of summer, sansa stark was in her element during the winter. the snow clung to her skin and hair, the winds provided her face with a faint blush. the night before had been one of the biggest blizzard’s she had seen during her time, though old nan told tales of snows that made that look like a mere sprinkle. still, as the queen in the north, she had to assess damage and assure her people had enough food and comfort to survive the winter. from what the maester’s had predicted, this would be the longest one in centuries. she’s walking through the woods, her queen’s guard surrounding her. after the war, she had been named queen, ruling an independent north, something they fought tirelessly for. as the eldest living child of ned stark, she had been chosen by her people ceremoniously and unanimously -- the north had thrived. soon enough, though, one of her men has summoned her, saying he found something. sansa approaches, instantly recognizing a man. he seemed to be asleep or knocked out, she couldn’t tell exactly, but what most concerned her was that he was inadequately dressed for the weather. ‘ would one of you find him a cloak -- he’ll freeze to death. ’ her tone sounded urgent, though the hesitation in her eyes is evident. she slowly approaches him, despite the guardsmen telling her otherwise. ‘ ---- hello? are you hurt? ’
