she had to keep going. to keep her short, crannogmen legs moving as far from that cave as mortally possible. to put distance between bran && the threat of his death as much as she could. to keep him safe before her knees threatened to buckle below her and the air in her lungs were cause to collapse at any second. he, who all of this was for. he, who she had been chosen to protect, to watch over. but with the wind in her face freezing tears && snot like she were still a child to her cheeks, and the slaughter of her friends at her back, how was she ever going to keep bran stark safe again?
there was confusion with every step she took. bran didn’t like talking about what happened to him in his visions ; where he went, what he saw. he kept it safe within himself, sacred and stored away so that only he might enjoy them when he were feeling his lowest. she knew that, but now meera needed answers to all the questions that had plagued her since the moment they stepped foot in that cave. her legs grew much too tired, and it were not long before the heir to the marshlands of the north fell against the snow, her grip on the cart holding bran still tight ━━━━━ not daring, no matter her exhaustion, to let him go. what was all of this for? what had happened back there? && what was to become of them now, with nowhere to run to? it were then, as she settled in the snow feeling only defeat and the burn in her limbs, that meera wanted her brother at her side more than anything in all the seven kingdoms. @wolfwinged
