[Bran's eyes widen at the sight of the wolves, and he lets out an awed breath. He aches to be near Summer, to see through her eyes, but just the presence of the other direwolves is almost comforting.
The house is a surprise. He has trouble imagining Robb against a backdrop other than the imposing stone of Winterfell, and in the cramped walls of this strange building, his brother looks too small, too breakable.
Too much like himself.
And then, the confession. Those four horrible words. Bran doesn't feel any shock, any alarm. Ice settles in his stomach, and he finds his hands clenching around the scalding cup, his throat working to produce any sound at all.]
You- ... what happened?
[He knows what happened. There's a horrible whisper in the back of his mind - Robb is dead, Robb is dead, they killed Robb, he's gone. He wants to fly away, like a raven, far, far away from hearing Robb's answer.]
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The house is a surprise. He has trouble imagining Robb against a backdrop other than the imposing stone of Winterfell, and in the cramped walls of this strange building, his brother looks too small, too breakable.
Too much like himself.
And then, the confession. Those four horrible words. Bran doesn't feel any shock, any alarm. Ice settles in his stomach, and he finds his hands clenching around the scalding cup, his throat working to produce any sound at all.]
You- ... what happened?
[He knows what happened. There's a horrible whisper in the back of his mind - Robb is dead, Robb is dead, they killed Robb, he's gone. He wants to fly away, like a raven, far, far away from hearing Robb's answer.]