“The wolves will come again.”
Of late, he often dreamed of wolves. They are talking to me, brother to brother, he told himself when the direwolves howled. He could almost understand them… not quite, not truly, but almost… as if they were singing in a language he had once known but somehow forgotten.
What was he now? Only Bran the broken boy, Brandon of House Stark, prince of a lost kingdom, lord of a burned castle, heir to ruins.