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"Why'd Mance send us to come with him to the fist of the first men? We've never been allowed near the wall." Stefan whispered to Reyanna.
"Don't know." Reyanna grunted in return as she trudged through the thick snow.
"Maybe it's because he trusts us now." Sofina's bright blue eyes wondered across the snowy horizon.
"Maybe its because we're expendable." Reyanna sneered.
"And if we get the chance to escape?" Stefan asked for clarification.
"We take it. Forget the gold we left at the village. There's a thousandfold of that hidden in Dragonstone that father left us. Anyway, doesn't look like we'd get far if we're still beyond the wall." Reyanna muttered.
Before long, Mance waved Reyanna over to walk by his side, amongst the main group. "Always the artists." Mance point to the ground ahead of them. She noticed all of the decapitated horses.
It was Walkers' work. All of the dead horses were placed in a particular spiral shape. As if it were art. There were hundreds of horse heads laying in the snow. The blood still seemed fairly fresh, meaning they hadn't gone too far yet.
"It's only horses. No men." Jon commentated. Relieved to know his other crow friends hadn't died at the hands of White Walkers.
"You said there was dead crows." Ygritte mentioned to Orell, who stood tall behind Mance. Reyanna pieced together that the expedition they were currently on was to find out if Jon's crow friends were still alive after getting lost past the wall.
"There was." Orell told. He was a strange man. He could see through others' eyes like magic. Even control them sometimes.
"How many men were here?" Mance asked Jon.
"About 300." Jon told.
"And you know what those men are now?" Mance inquired.
Jon nodded at Mance. "We're all the same to them- meat for their army." Mance spoke in a disgusted manner.
"We fight them off here and there, but never at their full potential. Could be thousands of them. Could even be millions of them for all we know." Reyanna pitched into the conversation.
"D'you think anyone got away?" Jon asked.
"It's not impossible. You don't go far betting against Mormont. But, dead or alive, he took a big gamble coming north. And he lost. His best fighting men are dead. And whether he's Lord Commander of the Night's Watch or a blue-eyed corpse, he's a long way from home. Tormund! Climb the wall. Take Orell and twenty good men. And take this one." Lance pointed at Jon.
"He knows Castle Black's defenses better than any of us. And if he's useful, good. If not... throw him off the Wall. See if crows can fly." Mance instructed.
