Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and itโs always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining.
A bear! A bear! All black and brown and covered in hair!
Do the dead frighten you?
The unseen enemy is always the most fearsome.
Kind? How boring that would be. I aspire to be wicked.
She never forgets a slight, real or imagined. She takes caution for cowardice and dissent for defiance. And she is greedy. Greedy for power, for honour, for love.