"That seems appropriate, doesn't it?" Ned retorts lightly, easily catching sight of both the twitch of her mouth and the underlying irony of it all. There's the glitter of something jovial, something playful in his eyes at the thought of it. How often had the words left their mouths, to serve both as a statement and a warning? Winter was always coming, whether sooner or later. He wonders how long the winter might last here, in this strange village. "Do you remember the last winter we had? You were but a child then, no more than three name days to speak of."