(Untitled)

[evernorthward]

The loud, clear blast of a horn sets the very trees to ringing. Not a moment later, a man stumbles out of the wood, a great white horn in one fist, a sword in the other. He is very tall, of noble bearing, broad shouldered without stockiness. He looks tired, and his clothes are travel and battle-worn. He slows to a stop and braces one shoulder

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[eldeststark]

A moment later, a long, loud, howl answers him and a wolf the size of a small pony leaps out of the brush of the woods, hackles raised and teeth bared. He's followed a moment later by his human, sword drawn and eyes bright, ready for anything. "What is it?"

He heard the alarm, and came, like a good little wolfboy.

[evernorthward]

The sword flashes out of the sheath in the blink of an eye. "What beast is that?"

[eldeststark]

Grey Wind crouches, teeth curling back more, and snarls, deep and low in his throat. Robb tenses at once. "He is my brother," flatly.

And glad that he has his sword. Telling Grey Wind firmly to stay back, though. "And do not raise a blade against him. He listens to me, but threatened, he will answer."

[evernorthward]

"As will I," he replies, but sheathes his sword. "I mean no harm."

[eldeststark]

Grey Wind doesn't relax. Robb does, though, and goes to hold his ruff. "Nor do I," he affirms. "My thanks."

[evernorthward]

"And mine, for sparing me your- brother."

[eldeststark]

A slight nod. "Grey Wind is my closest companion."

[evernorthward]

"Do most keep such companions here?"

[eldeststark]

He almost smiles. "No. Not at all. Nor where I come from, truly."

[evernorthward]

"Where is that?"

[eldeststark]

"Winterfell; the north of Westeros."

[evernorthward]

"I do not know those places."

[eldeststark]

He sighs, a little disappointed. "I wouldn't expect you to."

[evernorthward]

"Do you know the land of Gondor, of Minas Tirith?"

[eldeststark]

"Never heard of it. This place...people come from...different worlds, it seems."