11/03/2026 12:36

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You never know who could be listening. Seven days and seven nights, you said. It is plain that he has won. His legs bestrode the gap, one foot planted on each mountain, his shoulders looming tall above the jagged crests.

If not for Petyr Baelish it would have been Sansa who went spinning through a cold blue sky to stony death six hundred feet below, instead of Lysa Arryn. The Mountain is yours. Wake and work. TALL-TALKER, HORN-BLOWER, and BREAKER OF ICE.