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Chapter eleven 𓃦 Run, little rabbit.
Blood dripped from the dagger. She watched it slip against the metal and fall on the muddy floor. The rabbit screamed out of agony when it cut its throat and the head fell off. Daenys didn't flinch away from the sound. Once she would - but no more.
She sat on one of the few stairs that lead up to the Keep. Margaret stood on the muddy floor, eyes trained on Benjen and Brandon that ran around the yard, hiding from their mother and giggling like boys. Bennard had his sleeves pulled up to his forearms as he pulled the rabbit's head off its body, discarding it in a small box while he pushed its body forward to Cregan. Cregan – with precise movements – cut the body open with his knife to remove the guts and the heart.
The Starks returned from the Wall earlier that day. They hunted while gone, hence the rabbits and a small deer laying dead in the yard. Theon tried to help with the animals but one look from Bennard and an apology from Cregan moved him away and he disappeared in the town. Robb sat a few meters away from Daenys, looking away from the blood and the dead, rather looking down at his fingers. His sister-in-law, however, couldn't look away from the blood, "it is a good omen."
Robb looked her way and Margaret swallowed harshly to prevent from puking, "how come? Blood and death? What is good about that?"
Daenys is leaning on her knees and she plays with her fingers – there's a new ring on her finger; no more wolf but a dragon. Cregan gifted it to her. She doesn't look away from her husband that cuts in the small animal again, "it's a sign of piety and devotion – that the Gods are taking care of their devotees. 'Tis what the Septas used to tell me when I studied with them. And a white hart is a symbol of royalty – it's extremely rare though."
