Jon's wolf, the white one, was Ghost. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black. You are no Tywin Lannister, to slaughter innocents. He wants wine or a fire in his hearth, that's all, he told himself.
They thought her mad, Dany realized. That took half the morning. Yet he acquitted himself well, unhorsing Horas Redwyne in his first joust and one of the Freys in his second. I'll go by myself then.
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