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A mess of beautiful contradictions make her whole, she wears fire for skin but a storm lives in her soul.
The climb back down the other side of the Wall was just as nerve wracking, perhaps even more so as she had to make sure that every backward step she took was secure before removing her axe. When they started walking along the rocks, she realized for the first time in at least a month she was seeing grass again. The air was different south of the Wall, sweeter than she remembered, more earthy and lively. Everything beyond the Wall was frozen and hard to swallow, the trees were solid stalks of wood with glazed leaves dangling from the branches and the ground was thick with ice and snow, locking away the life that festered beneath. The trees south of the Wall were emboldened with pride and rooted by the soil that she had longed to see ever since she got a taste of the cold. Crouching down, she pressed her palms into the soft dirt, grass and dead leaves sifting between her fingers. She let the air of the North fill her lungs. She was so close to home.
"Your air is weird," Clay scowled as he walked past her, carrying his axe heavily by his side. He was on alert, his eyes sweeping the area ahead of them as Tormund led them deeper into the forest to rest for a minute as they had been travelling on foot for a few hours now.
Wren rolled her eyes while standing back up, "because it's filled with living things," she spoke.
Clay spared her a small glance as she quickened her steps to match his long strides, "no, it's because it's full of stinky southerners," he clarified. One of the Wildlings walking by overheard him and laughed.
Wren glared at him, "as if you're any better."
Clay shrugged, "whatever makes your pretty little head happy."
She wanted to argue more with him but she saw Jon and Ygritte pass her from the corner of her eye and she felt a bucket of heat filling up her stomach and chest. She didn't understand the emotion that pulsed through her core when she saw them together. She wanted her best friend to be happy, so she would remain silent and stay out of his way. To protect them both she would ignore her feelings. She could tell Ygritte appreciated this from the stares she could feel when Ygritte thought she wasn't paying attention. If she stayed away from Jon she would be okay, he would be okay.
Clay slowed down so she could walk at a normal pace, his empty hand brushing against hers that hung by her side. A blush grew to her cheeks and she averted her gaze from his. He grabbed her hand and she let out a small gasp, the toughness of his hand and the way his skin felt against hers was enough to quiet the thoughts of Jon and Ygritte for now. "Is this okay?" He whispered to her below the voices of Wildlings. They were far behind the pack.
