"𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓'𝑠 𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑," their father always called it. Could make a man or woman wild in a sense, unpredictable, and powerful. And when a violet-eyed twin born to the Lord Eddard Stark, all knew that the boy would have it. And he did.
Beside his...
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꧁"This is all my fault that we got lost."
"Come on, Brother, never sell yourself short... Robb helped, too."
Benget Stark says whilst with a smile, showing a toothy grin as Robb groans and Jon smiles. Sansa follows behind the three, a scared look on the younger girls' face but also an angry one as they trudge through the Wolfswood which is just north of Winterfell.
"Why did you three drag me into this? This is ridiculous. Mother is going to be cross with me now that you two Daynes took me and Robb out here for..whatever stupid thing you guys have planned."
Benget- Ben, rolls his violet eyes a little as he continues trudging through the woods, his sword at his waist to protect the four of them. Sansa had always been like this, Ben thinking since literally the day she was born. But he knows it isn't really her that feels it. It's her mother's words out of her mouth, and not her own.
Lady Catelyn Stark, though sharing the same name as Jon and Ben, hates them. Hates them with a fiery passion. Dayne, she calls them out of spite, and Snow or Bastard when she's angry. She had even gone as far as hitting Jon and Ben several times before in the past. Though she never did it in the eyes of Eddard Stark. When she had hit them the last time, it had been the final time. It had been the one time Ned Stark fully let loose and show his pure anger.
"If you remember what really happened, sweet sister, you would remember how you didn't want to be stuck with taking care of Arya at home."
"I didn't think we would be going to the Wolfswood!"
"But look at us- the four eldest children of Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, wandering the Wolfswood because Robb decided to chase a butterfly."
"Hey! It was a hare, not a butterfly."
Jon and Benget chuckle as they continue walking along through the dark woods. The many trees stand taller than giants of Old Nan' stories, casting shadows larger than Balerion the Black Dread, the great dragon rode by Aegon the Conqueror, Maegor the Cruel, Princess Aerea Targaryen, and then finally, Viserys I Targaryen- the Young King. The great beast had outlived so many of it's riders. Benget has a feeling that the thousands and millions of taller than life trees of the Wolfswood will outlive them all as the same.
