Tja, ich bin tod. Ich sitze hier unten und schlage meine Zeit tot. Und die ist lang. Gestorben bin ich im Knast. Das hatte die Richterin und der Staat...anwalt nicht gedacht. Zur Besserung hatten sie gesagt. Und nun sitze ich hier. Erstochen und für alle Zeit hier. Und mein Nachbar nerft.„Hey hey wie heist du Kumpel?“„Geht dich nichts an“ brumme ich.„Ach auch egal, bald binn ich hier raus.“ japst der Typ. Auch Geister können nerven.„Wie raus?“ Trotz der Penetranz des Typs wurde ich. He didnt know how he would make it but he would try. He had grown tired of the mocking whispers and the long stares as Hodor carried him through Winterfells halls. After Hodor had strapped Bran into his saddle and opened the gate Bran rode out alone, save his direwolf which was now his only friend. Bran rode as far as his horse would take him. He came to a forest and supposed he would stop for the night. He figured he could mount his horse again if he pulled himself up on a tree limb. So. More

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