@wargskin;; ᴇɴᴛᴇʀiɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʟᴠᴇs ᴅᴇɴ.
Until stepping foot at the stronghold, the silver haired Targaryen had never seen snow before. The cool winter was enough to have her tugging the onyx cloak around herself, raising her chin with an expression akin to wonder, as the snow continued to fall. Gloved hand tightening on the reins of the stallion beneath her, perhaps horseback was INFERIOR to the usual mount she’d acquired – but it would suffice.
It had been the idea of her Hand, to seek a tentative alliance with the North, upon hearing the Boltons no longer held possession of the lands there. In theory, the proposal worked – thus rendering an agreement to meet in a far more neutral location – but the stormborn ruler was painfully aware of the history between wolf and dragon, and the reasons for which they would have to be wary of her presence there. Now that they were arriving at the keep, violet hues roamed the snowy landscape of Karhold, lips pressed together in an almost nervous manner. Almost. Even now, the three dragons lingered above, constantly tracking their mother to ensure her safety.
Dismounting with all the ease of her years with the dothraki, her head turned long enough to ensure that both herself and her Hand were flanked by several of the Unsullied and bloodriders, allowing them to lead the way towards the doors to the castle, expecting an interception before it opened. The Queen had arrived.
