another brick in the wall

travelers called this place something simple. The Wall. how formidable. Willoughby would exit from the pines after speaking with Winterfell's king, going through the brief doorway of this area before she was at the other side. Winterfell was behind her now, and she would surely love to visit again but she had other things to concern herself with. survival was probably the most pressing one. she did not know how to hunt large game, and could only bring down small prey by herself. without a pack to support her, she could do no formal supporting.

and that was bad.

the woman would turn on the spot, viewing the length of the structure before moving along one side. she marveled at the bricks and stones placed upon each other to make a, well, wall. maybe even a barrier. maybe at one point, this place was the beginning of a marvelous castle on the other side. now that the castle was gone, the gate was only left. but that was also just her imagination running wild. imagine a winter castle in the middle of nowhere. it sounded almost lonely. Bee rounded the corner, peering back to where the pines were before looking to the south.

there was a dirt path, worn with age, that lead away from here. maybe she'd follow it. someone was kind enough to make it, after all. Bee tried to think of a traveling hymn, but all she could muster was a soft tune as she hummed to herself. so lost in her own thoughts, she failed to notice the other wolf until it was too late.