"𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓'𝑠 𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑," their father always called it. Could make a man or woman wild in a sense, unpredictable, and powerful. And when a violet-eyed twin born to the Lord Eddard Stark, all knew that the boy would have it. And he did.
Beside his...
He slammed his fist so hard on the table that map markers to indicate the movement and stations of troops fell to the stone floor. Robb flew to his feet with speed that could rival Grey Wind, and in a second stood before Lord Rickard Karstark with a maddening fury that all in the room were surprised by, and yet feared it at the same time.
"Boys! Two boys no older than mine own little brothers, and you fucking butchered them!"
"They were Lannisters! They killed my sons!"
"Willem did? And Martin?"
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Robb could barely hold himself back as his fists clenched so tight that his fingernails dug into his palms, drawing blood. His eyes were fuming with such a fiery hatred that it made Robb feel sick, but most of all made him feel powerful. A sickening power he did not wish to stain him.
"Torrhen was killed at the Whistling Wood in battle and the Kingslayer murdered Harald in his cell, you know that. So why in bloody hell would you kill two boys who had nothing to do with it?!"
"Why would you spare Lannisters?!"
The Lord of Karhold spat back as all eyes stared between the two men, the two kin. Talisa bit her tongue to stop from shouting, to get them both to stop and to have everything sorted out in the morning on a night's sleep and clear heads. But she knew Robb would not give Lord Karstark that at all.
"It wasn't right to kill them, they were hostages!"
