Robb Stark - Grey Wind

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/// (Y/L/N) = Your Last Name /// (Y/E/C) = Your Eye Colour ///


"Make him wake up." Robb said, looking at the gods' tree, his eyes watering, "Please." His head tilted down. He knew Bran had not fell, he had seen him climb thousands of times and never had he ever slipped. He shivered at the thought that someone might have hoped for his little brother to hurt himself so badly he would die. The Lord kept wrestling with his thoughts when a man arrived out of breath, his eyes showing anxiousness.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, My Lord-" He took a few quick breaths before adding: "-your direwolf has escaped and its causing trouble all over Winterfell." He finished rapidly. Robb's eyes widened and he ran back to the castle.



*~Time Skip~*


Hay splattered everywhere that snow had started to cover, the few horses that were still in there stables were unceasingly whinnying, the dogs hid behing their masters, their tail in between their legs... Robb watched the disaster his companion had made. He spoke up so everybody present at the center of the castle could hear him:

"Have any of you seen where Grey Wind went?" Apart from a few remarks like: 'Wind? Storm would be more appropriate!', 'If we had looked in its direction it would have eaten us all!', an old man walked towards Robb and pointed towards the gates of Winterfell. The oldest Stark's son thanked him and turned to his people, "I'm sorry for what happened to your crops, to your animals, to you! I solemnly swear that you will be repaid!" The men and women around him started to talk between them and gave brief nods. When Robb got their approval, he hopped on the horse that his squire had prepared for him and rushed in the direction the man had pointed in.


*~Time Skip~*


Snowflakes started to grow bigger and the sky filled itself with transparent clouds, the sun beaming his light through the branches. Robb's horse started to tire and so was its rider; he climbed off its stallion and walked beside it. His thoughts started being infected by woeful, belittling ones; they became darker and darker until he had to stop himself from walking further, sat down and tried to see a glimpse of light through this sombre painting that was his mind. First, his brother was seemingly never going to wake up from his fall, then, his direwolf had escaped, now, he was deeply in debt towards the people of Winterfell... The paint dillued to form teardrops at the edge of his eyes. Robb couldn't hold back the hopelessness that he felt at this exact moment; he sobbed, he cried, not an ounce of his body did not feel devastated. A voice interrupted the -not so audible- wailing of the Lord; it came from behind him: a soothing murmure that could faintly be heard. Robb attached his horse to a tree and walked a few stepps to where the sound was coming from. His feet carried him to a glade; at the center of it stood a gigantic oak tree which's shadow covered a rock beneath it on which you were seated, dressed in a plain beige dress, gently petting the head of a certain direwolf who lied fast asleep at your feet. Your gentle singing was perturbated by a presence you could clearly feel, you closed your mouth and opened your eyes. Robb had not moved, he was... Magnetised. Grey Wind started to wake up; when his eyes opened, he was met with the gleeful gaze of his owner. The direwolf instantly got on his feet and rushed into Robb's open arms. After licking the entirety of the heir of Winterfell's face in exhilaration, he was scolded for his actions until the Lord noticed a missing tooth in the animal's mouth... toothache! That's what had put the -usually so calm- creature in an infuriated state; Robb let his fingers slid through the soft fur. You were watching this scene light-hearted from a fair distance, but soon realised that they will both leave and you would have to return to your house -a small cottage outside of Winterfell's protective walls. Your expression turned into one of dismal and you started to walk away from the stone, the tree... And Robb Stark whose blue eyes followed every movement of yours until they stopped when he called after you:

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