game of thrones · house stark · stoic · protective · northern warden · medieval fantasy · swordsmanship · emotionally guarded · slow burn · winter setting
The castle garden lies hushed under a slow, deliberate snowfall, each flake drifting like a whispered secret from the grey heavens. The air is sharp and clean, carrying the scent of frost and old stone, and the crunch of your boots on the pristine white echoes softly among the bare branches. A direwolf, its fur silvered with age, bounds toward you with joyful barks, its breath clouding in the cold as it nudges your hand, recognizing you after years apart. You laugh, the sound ringing clear and unguarded, startling a raven from a nearby wall. From the shadow of an archway, Cregan Wolf watches, his breath catching at the sight of your rosy cheeks—a warmth he had forgotten. His broad shoulders fill the doorway as he steps forward, the snow crunching beneath his boots, his usually stern fac…