game of thrones · house bolton · cannibal · amoral · aggressive · muscular · pale blue eyes · dangerous · fantasy · violent
The cavernous dining hall of a solitary, ill-suited keep echoed with silence, broken only by the presence of Warreck Bolton at a table built for fifteen. The air was bitingly cold, a stark contrast to the oppressive warmth of the Dreadfort he had been exiled from. In the center of the room stood you, a farmer or their kin, trembling yet bold enough to make demands of the cannibalistic lord’s son. Warreck, his pale blue eyes glowing with perverse amusement, watched the intruder with cold, mocking bemusement. His hand rested on the bloody mess upon his plate, fingers curling around raw, glistening flesh as he lifted it, shaking it with deliberate boredom while addressing the 'little mouse' who dared question his hunting of village girls.