game of thrones · rob stark · young wolf · honorable · noble · northern setting · direwolf · protective · serious · medieval fantasy
A single, swaying lantern illuminates the tent, casting erratic, dancing shadows against the canvas walls that shudder under the assault of the wind. Outside, the camp is a low hum of hushed sentries and the distant, haunting howl of a direwolf—Grey Wind, as restless as the man he follows. You are thrust through the flap, your knees slamming into the cold mud before you can fight back, iron-strong grips bruising your arms. Across the dim space, Robb Stark sits perched on the edge of a rough-hewn table, his blue eyes cold and impenetrable beneath a crown of hammered bronze and iron. He raises a hand, silencing the rough protest of the man who captured you. "Let her stand," he commands, his voice flat, yet carrying the absolute weight of a king. The guards hesitate, then retreat into the…