we know no king but the king in the north (ota)

[tooktheblack]

WHO: Jon Snow
WHERE: woods; inn
WHEN: 4 March
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: TBD

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As the weather had been a bit milder these past few days, Jon had taken the bow and been ranging more than he had when the snows were thick and coming down on a regular basis. It was easier to find game when fresh shoots were pushing up through the earth and there was one clearing in the forest that was especially good for hunting; deer liked to gather around a small pond and drink and it was easy to bag at least one before the others scattered in panic.

One buck would be enough to feed people for several days, even if the whole village ate from it, and while he still hunted birds and the like it was a good target to have. Approaching the watering hole, he nocked an arrow in his bow and aimed, only to be startled out of the shot by being in Winterfell again.

Winter is here.

Sansa looked at him with grim determination, the girlish features of her face hardened now into stone. She'd gone through so much in the last several years, changed so much, and yet beneath it all she still had what made her a Stark. He was a Stark too, he guessed, after having been crowned King in the North but he didn't feel it. He would never feel like a true Stark in these walls.

When he came free of the memory, the arrow was lodged in a tree and the deer were gone. He headed back to the village empty handed and went to get something to drink. He wished it were ale, considering, but it was only tea because they had nothing stronger. Why would that have felt so real? Why would he be standing on the battlements at Winterfell with Sansa - a Sansa that was older than the one here? It made no sense.

"Something queer is going on in this place," he said, speaking loud enough to be overheard by anyone else who might be walking into the Inn. "I've never had a vision of home before."