𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐒

𝐯𝐢𝐢 𝕿𝐡𝐞 𝕱𝐚𝐥𝐥

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟'𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝
𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐬
____________

____ Streams of sunlight poured through the windows in the secondborn Stark's chambers as the dawn aroused in the North. The hounds in the kennels began to howl and bark, demanding their first meal of the day. Inside of the Stark's chambers, Rikson and Alysanne remained peacefully asleep, with the pup still curled against his steadily rising and falling chest. The fire had diminished throughout the night, leaving the room victim to the morning breeze of the North.

Alysanne's nose began to twitch as her sense of smell picked up on the delicious scent of roasting meat, from the hunt some days prior, that was being prepared for the Starks' and their Royal guests' breakfast.

She opened her red eyes, taking in the cold of her master's room, before gently removing herself from underneath Rikson's arm, that had subconsciously made it's way over her during his sleep. She yawned while stretching her limbs, shaking herself in means of fully waking her body, before turning to her Stark master that remained asleep.

The black direwolf's tail started to wag as an idea on how to wake Rikson popped into her mind. The wolf began to relentlessly lick his face, not planning on giving up until he was fully awake. Rikson mumbled something the wolf didn't understand as he turned on his right side, facing away from the direwolf. She huffed, lifting her head over his shoulder and began to nip at his hair and the tips of his ears, while also managing to sneak in a few licks to his cheek. Soon enough, Alysanne noticed her master's blue eyes opening, before he rolled himself over to face her.

"Why?"

Alysanne yipped in amusement, her tail continuing to furiously wag, as she gave his cheek another lick. He chuckled, running his hand along his wolf's soft fur before standing from the warm and comfy bed and walking to the wooden dresser beside his bed.

Eventually, Rikson decided on an outfit suitable to wear before the Royal Family, laying the pieces of fabric across his bed before dressing himself.

Alysanne curiously studied his choice of clothing from where she sat on the furs of the bed, occasionally titling her wolf head followed by a low yip.

Her Stark master wore black trousers accompanied with the leather boots he always wore. A dark-brown tunic lay underneath his black shirt that was designed with curly lines, reminding the direwolf of the vines that lined the walls of Winterfell. Around his broad shoulders rested a black cloak, the ties that held the cloth together were connected by two silver direwolf heads. The belt around his waist was void of his Valyrian-steel sword that he called 'Wrath'.