All through my childhood, I've been told that my family was royal; I mean, it wasn't exactly said sweetly considering the word "fuck up" always seemed to follow. My shit of a father hauled his drunken ass out of the house when I was only a girl because my mother whored around all day without a care. Her careless whoring is what brought me into this world, however. The ironic thing about us being "royal fuck ups" is that I happen to have a bit of royal blood limping through my veins. I guess the only man worse than my adoptive father would me my real father. Both equally as shiity, both equally as drunk, but at least one didn't screw my mother and then kick her out of a castle.
Mother shipped me off to the wall, out of fear that someone would learn who my father was, and try to kill me. She hoped that the men of the wall would let me stay, and keep me safe.....instead, they took me to their gates that opened to the other side of the wall, and tossed me out, in hopes that I'd just die.
But I didn't die; just as I was at the brink of starvation, a large man with dirty blonde hair, who called himself Marvies, along with a few others picked me up, and they dragged me to their camp. They explained to me who they were, and what they were doing. I'd heard of these people before, the Free Folk (wildlings), but they weren;t anyhting like what I was told. They took me in, at just nine years old, and they fed, washed, clothed, and cared for me as one of their own. And, soon enough, I was one of their own.
--
I was strapping on my boots, when Marvies marched into my tent, "C'mon, Snow. We're tracking those kids"
I smiled and hustled out after him.
I've been with Marvies and the Free Folk for five years now, and, for the most part, I've cherished every minute of it; if it weren't for them, I'd probably be dead right now. I've grown to hate the Crows (the men of the wall), with their black coats and smug attitudes; they track down other lots of us, and, sometimes, even kill us in cold blood.
However, as I've grown up here, Marvies and I have become close, and he's practically family. He has taught me how to think before I act, but to never let anyone, not even him, influence my decisions. Marvies likes to consult me about his plans or choices, to get my imput, but he usually sticks with his thoughts, even when I think he's making the wrong choice. He's recently been coming up with a plan; a very, very dangerous plan. We've been brainstorming how to take back the south, and fix the problems that were created after my father died, and his ass of a son, Joffrey, took the throne, and Marvies has come up with one that he truly believes in, but I'm worried that we'll all end up with knives at our throats, and arrows in our hearts.
Marvies thinks that we can climb up and over the wall, into a string of abandoned watch houses that we found lining the inside of the wall. The plan could work out fine, if we took other lots of wildlings; especially if we got help from the Thenns. But the Crows aren't entirely stupid; something tells me that those watch houses aren't abandoned for no reason. I have a hunch that those houses have been set up to make us think that we've found a way in, I mean, the Crows already know that we climb the wall every few weeks. If we go through with this plan, I have no doubt that we'll be ambushed, attacked and killed before we even touch the ground.
But Marvies truly belives this plan, and when Marvies sets his mind on something, there's nothing getting in his way. I've managed to talk to others about what they think of the plan, and most of them are extatic, but there's a select few that I can tell are suspicious. Those select few are far too scared to go along with what I've planned.
Like I said, I've learned to think on my own from being with the Free Folk, and even those who think they've got me figured out, have no idea what they're dealing with.
