Shattered Legs May Heal In Time, But

Kind? How Boring That Would Be. I Aspire To Be Wicked.

Give A Thing A Name And It Will Somehow Come To Be.

The Years Leech At A Man's Memories, Even Those He Has Vowed Never To Forget.

Let Me Tell You Something About Wolves, Child. When The Snows Fall And The White Winds Blow, The Lone Wolf Dies, But The Pack Survives. In Winter, We Must Protect One Another, Keep Each Other Warm, Share Our Strengths. So If You Must Hate, Arya, Hate Those Who Would Truly Do Us Harm.

A Cold Wind Was Blowing From The North, And It Made The Trees Rustle Like Living Things.