It began as just another morning around the house. Susan was hanging laundry on the line to one side of the house, and Jon and Rickon were in the garden nearby, pulling weeds--or rather, Jon was pulling weeds and Rickon was 'helping'. This mostly constituted slinging small bits of plants and sticks and clods of dirt about with no regard for what
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Arya took off towards the sound at a run, vaulting over a log, Nymeria a grey blur at her side, only to halt, stymied, when she arrived at Snow House.
She'd been ready to ward off whatever had Rickon and Shadow so upset, but there was nothing, at first glance, to ward off. And Arya's first glances were good ones. She noticed, for instance, that there were clumps of weeds pulled loose but not yet thrown away, and that the laundy was not quite done being hanged.
No one with any sense gardened and did laundry at the same time. But there was only one adult here.
"...what happened?" she said, even though it wasn't the question that leapt first to her tongue.
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"Dada GO!" Rickon interrupted, stomping and kicking, and Susan turned him a little so that he wasn't kicking her stomach but could still vent his stormy feelings. "Dada gone! Ghost gone!"
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"Nymeria, find Jon," she said to the wolf, who simply padded to the garden, sniffed, and then looked back at her, silent as her absent brother.
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"Maybe the island sent him to dinosaur territory," Susan ventured. She was grasping at straws.
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"I'll go," she said, "I'm going to go right now and find him."
Her feet didn't seem to want to move, though.
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