Shagga's coat could have used a good brushing too, but it would have been less than tactful to mention it. The herbwomen made him a new one, wet and soothing. The world swam dizzily. Killing kings is weary work.
The echoes rang through the darkness, and all around them the dead of Winterfell seemed to watch with cold and disapproving eyes. He tested the weight of it, slicing at the cold morning air. Arya squirmed through the press, ducking between the legs of horses and clutching tight to her sword stick. I remember your brother from Winterfell.
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