I'll ride to the holdfast and bring help for you. The lies we tellfor love, he thought. Like the snowfall on the barrowlands, it seemed the tears would never end. He told himself he was fortunate in that too.
His shield bore a unicorn sigil, and a spiral horn two feet long jutted up from the brow of his horsehead helm. Yet under the frail cage of those shattered ribs, his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. I would swear that wolf of his is keeping the boy alive. She handed Luwin back his torch and scooped Bran up into her arms again.
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