He yearned for the comfort of Catelyn's arms, for the sounds of Robb and Jon crossing swords in the practice yard, for the cool days and cold nights of the north. The wretched boy had started it, looking down on him from a throne of carved weirwood beneath the moon-and-falcon banners of House Arryn. Her brother was waiting in the cool of the entry hall, seated on the edge of the pool, his hand trailing in the water. Their wolves might have kept them safe, but Lady is dead and Nymeria's lost, they're all alone.
Shagga is of the opinion that three axes are even better than two. That did not sound right to Jon, yet he said nothing. Don't be afraid, he won't hurt you. I am no man, she whispered, so you may lean on me.
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