Pack Animals |Game of Thrones|

Chapter XVII - Winterfell

Ever since Bran had fallen from the tower, Catelyn Stark had not moved from his bedside since and she had managed to leave all of the business to rot in the dirt behind her, as she was sitting in Bran's room since the day of the fall.

Robb and Silver had been left in charge of everything to do with Winterfell and they were doing a surprisingly good job of it, despite the fact that six-year old Rickon was terrified and was constantly clinging to them, feeling like he had been abandoned by his mother, and by his father who was down in King's Landing, as the King's Hand.

"We will make the appointments and look over them. First thing in the morning, tomorrow." Robb said after Silver and him had been alerted to their mother's shouting, as Winter was following at their heels.

"Very good, my lord. Lady Stark, lady Stark." Maester Luwin stated as he bowed his head to them and he left the room in silence afterward.

Silver nodded at the hallway and Winter loped out of the room and she went down the hallway, howling as she did and she was next to the rest of her littermates now.

Maester Luwin left the room and Silver shut the door behind him, as she looked at Robb, who nodded very slightly at the look that swiftly passed through both of them.

Robb opened up the window and he looked out at the direwolf pack in the courtyard.

Winter and Grey Wind were the biggest of them, Grey Wind was black and gray, while Winter was more of a cream-white color of wolf. Next in size was Bran's still-unnamed pup and the smallest of them was still Rickon's pup, named "Shaggydog" who was as black as the dead of night.

"When was the last time you left this room?" Robb asked and Silver gently took Bran's hand in hers and she squeezed it gently, as she kissed his forehead briefly, before she stood up again, joining her twin brother at the window.

"I have to take care of him. I need to take care of him." Catelyn insisted to her older two children and Silver looked at Robb.

"He is not going to die, Mother. Maester Luwin says that the worst time has past for him, when has he ever been wrong?" Silver questioned of her mother, who looked at her with a low growl.

"What if he is wrong?! Bran needs me!" Catelyn was practically shouting and when Silver looked over silently at her mother, she saw a woman torn apart by grief. She saw her mother, a strong woman well-known for all her devotion to her family, torn to pieces by her second-youngest child's, near death experience.

"Rickon needs you. He's six. He doesn't know what's happening, he follows us around all day, clutching our legs and crying--" Robb had to let his mother know the reality of the situation and instead, their mother seemed to sink even deeper into a sort of madness.

"Close the window! I cannot stand it! Just, please, make them stop!" It was clear that the grief was getting to Lady Catelyn Stark and Silver looked out of the window.

"Robb." She whispered and he looked out over the yard. "Fire." Silver said as he nodded and Silver raced off on her own to fight the fires, with Robb racin' to catch up.

When they had returned to Bran's room with half of the guard in their castle and Theon, with Winter growling savagely as they ran into the room. They found a dead body with a fine knife in hand, the throat torn out of the dead body, Bran's direwolf lyin' on the bed in front of Bran and finally, they saw Lady Catelyn with blood and deep cuts on her hands from the knife, no doubt.

"Mother." Silver said as they helped her to her bed-chamber and left her with Old Nan to wash up, to wash off the blood that soaked her clothes in a scarlet-red hue that made Silver, in a clear form of disgust, think of the Lannisters.