( this song is a secret from a place where i have been )

Rickon? Catelyn?

[The feed opens on an ornately carved cage. Weirwood, if one is passing familiar or interested enough to look. The two nightingales inside are huddled together, asleep on their perch.]

Should I be worried?

[A slender, pale hand upturned - a palm full of berries, but neither bird opens its eyes. Sleep is much more interesting ( Read more... )

[After a failed attempt at attaching the respective messages to her newly acquired rabbit, Arya, these handwritten letters find themselves (eventually) somewhere near the hands of their addressees courtesy of an Anatolian boy ( Read more... )

[A soft click as it's set on the surface of the table. (This is what starts the feed) A soft curl of auburn hair swaying past. Soft breath cut short by the press of teeth to lip and a soft hum to seal it ( Read more... )