{"version":"1.0","provider_name":"caffelyu","provider_url":"https:\/\/caffelyu.cafeblog.hu","author_name":"caffelyu","author_url":"https:\/\/caffelyu.cafeblog.hu\/author\/caffelyu\/","title":"warmth felt good","html":"

When the flames were blazing nicely Meera put the fish on. At least it\u2019s not a meat pie. The Rat Cook had cooked the son of the Andal king in a big pie with onions, carrots, mushrooms sightseeing bus tour<\/a>, lots of pepper and salt, a rasher of bacon, and a dark red Dornish wine. Then he served him to his father, who praised the taste and had a second slice. Afterward the gods transformed the cook into a monstrous white rat who could only cat his own young. He had roamed the Nightfort ever since, devouring his children, but still his hunger was not sated. \u201cIt was not for murder that the gods cursed him,\u201d Old Nan said, \u201cnor for serving the Andal king his son in a pie. A man has a right to vengeance. But he slew a guest beneath his roof, and that the gods cannot forgive.\u201d \u201cWe should sleep dermes hk<\/a>,\u201d Jojen said solemnly, after they were full. The fire was burning low. He stirred it with a stick. \u201cPerhaps I\u2019ll have another green dream to show us the way.\u201d Hodor was already curled up and snoring lightly. From time to time he thrashed beneath his cloak, and whimpered something that might have been \u201cHodor.\u201d Bran wriggled closer to the fire. The , and the soft crackling of flames soothed him, but sleep would not come. Outside the wind was sending armies of dead leaves marching across the courtyards to scratch faintly at the doors and windows. The sounds made him think of Old Nan\u2019s stories. He could almost hear the ghostly sentinels calling to each other atop the Wall and winding their ghostly warhorns. Pale moonlight slanted down through the hole in the Dorne, painting the branches of the weirwood as they strained up toward the roof. It looked as if the tree was trying to catch the moon and drag it down into the well. Old gods, Bran prayed, if you hear me, don\u2019t send a dream tonight. Or if you do, make it a good dream. The gods made no answer. Bran made himself close his eyes. Maybe he even slept some, or maybe he was just drowsing, floating the way you do when you are half awake and half asleep, trying not to think about Mad Axe or the Rat Cook or the thing that came in the night. Then he heard the noise. His eyes opened. What was that? He held his breath. Did I dream it? Was I having a stupid nightmare? He didn\u2019t want to wake Meera and Jojen for a bad dream, but... there... a soft scuffling sound, far off almo nature<\/a>... Leaves, it\u2019s leaves rattling off the walls outside and rustling together... or the wind, it could be the wind... The sound wasn\u2019t coming from outside, though. Bran felt the hairs on his arm start to rise.<\/p>","type":"rich"}