ғɪᴠᴇ ♚ so take another breath

[wolfskin]

[ Like before Robb writes, his hand feeling heavy as the quill produces the words. Take heart in the knowledge she is safe in the Vale, take heart─ if only it were so simple. ]

I regret to inform that Alayne Stone is no loner within the walls of the castle, she has been returned to Westeros. My condolences to those who have lost a friend, she shall be missed.

─ Robb Stark, King in the North and of the Trident.

[ It is signed the same way as before, direwolf symbol and all. With that he closes the journal, designing not to open it again for some time. ]

Comments

[wolfchild]

I didn't say you were.

[ she scuffs her shoe, not really looking at him. ]

[wolfskin]

You did not need to say it, little sister. [ Sometimes he cannot read her, sometimes her thoughts are strangers to him. Other times he can, like now, she thinks him angry for what she said.

Grey Wind disappears into the forest, off to hunt not doubt, and Robb sits upon a large rock by the tree. ]

I swore to you, remember? I swore I would not leave while there is still breath in my body, and I swear now before the old gods that I will not leave you.

[wolfchild]

[ arya blinks, surprise leaping on her face. she thought she was still water. mayhaps she's not as good at hiding as she thought.

she looks from his face to the wide trunk and up at the red leaves. when the wind blows through them, she sometimes thinks she hears the gods speak.

if they speak, they hear. robb swore. ]

We still have to give it a face. [ an acknowledgement in different words. she smiles a little. ]

[wolfskin]

[ He looks to the trunk, reaching out to brush his fingers against the bark. ]

Do you think it grown enough?

[wolfchild]

Yes. [ but were it left up to her, she would have given it a face when she got it. ]

[wolfskin]

Then it is time to give it a face. [ Robb pulls the dagger from his belt, kneeling down in front of the tree. ]

[wolfchild]

Be careful!

[ not that she doesn't think he wouldn't be but tree ;o; ]

[wolfskin]

I will be, worry not. [ His hand is steady as he brings the blade close to the stark white bark, he keeps the gods wood of Winterfell in his mind. The face carved upon the heart tree.

He begins to carving slowly, in order to be certain he does it right. It must be perfect. ]

[wolfchild]

[ arya chews her lip. ]

A little lower there!

[wolfskin]

Here? [ He adjusts only to pause and wave Arya over closer, two sets of eyes are better than one and they should do this together. ]

[wolfchild]

[ she stops next to him. her eyes roam over the cuts already made bleeding red sap. ]

Yes. And cut there. And there. [ she points them out as she speaks. ]

[wolfskin]

[ Robb cuts where directed, shaping the face from his memory and Arya's instruction. Some time later and the tree has it's face, the eyes bleeding its red tears. ]

What do you think?

[wolfchild]

[ arya is strangely quiet. she walks up to the tree and brushes away some of the sap, getting the sticky fluid on her fingers. she rubs the sap between them, and looks up at the leaves. they sway softly in the breeze, whispering secrets not meant for mortal ears. it's not the same. it won't ever be the same. as much as she may try, as much as they may all try, this place will never be winterfell.

but maybe, arya slides an arm around robb in a hug, her hand clutching a handful of his tunic as she holds her other hand with the warm sap so much like blood near her cheek, they can make a new home. if anyone can do it, robb will. we're wolves, and our gods are with us now. ]

I think the gods can hear.

[wolfskin]

[ He slides an arm of his own around her, hugging her tightly. Pleased with his work, pleased that she approves. Proud of himself. It is not the same, he knows it will not be the same.

But it is something, a piece of the North to ease their hearts, he thinks if he closes his eyes he can hear the old gods speak as the wind rustles the leaves. ]

Aye, so do I. [ With a smile he turns and presses a kiss to the side of her head. ] So do I.