KENJRICK STARK:The Lycan Lord

I: The man with the strength of a thousand

It was the warmest day in Winterfell for a change, or as warm as it could be for a snowy paradise. The sun was shining down upon the earth, making the snow look as if diamonds were embedded into it. This was the perfect weather in Kenjrick's opinion, this weather calmed his inner beast and allowed him to feel lighter.

On days like these, the young Lord found himself sitting in the woods with an opening to show the great Frozen lake, watching the sun dance upon the surface while he sat there for hours with a piece of wood, his favorite knife whittling away. To Kenjrick, this was heaven. He loves whittling, making animals and mythical creatures from a simple piece of wood; the red head had made so many that his chambers were decorated with them, soon he ended giving them away to his siblings, and often made enough to give to the workers within Winterfell and any child he saw. His art became the talk of Winterfell, bringing joy and smiles to everyone that happened to be blessed with an original piece from the handsome lord.

Today was no different, he was currently working on a new piece, one for his betrothed whom he has not yet met, but she would be there soon, so time was of the essence. He did not know what she would like, for all he knew was that she was the Lady of Highgarden, a woman who's beauty rivals even the Queen. He was informed of her generosity, kindness and warmth that oozed from her when she stepped into any room, but other than that he knew nothing.

He settled on making her a medium wooden rose that bloomed, revealing a wolf sitting looking up. He was finalizing the last-minute details, ensuring the realism of the wolf was on point and the flower petals looks soft as ever. He ran his large, calloused fingers over the smoothness of the wood, silently making note of anything he may need to fix.

"Hiding again?" His wolf ears twitch at the sound of his twin sister's voice, pulling his attention away from his artwork.

Sansa struts gracefully over to him, Lady following close by but departs from her side to run to Kenjrick's Wolf and the largest of the batch, Daemon, who lounged on the snow a few feet away from his master, the red patch on his head gleamed in the sun.

"Just getting some work done." He mumbles, looking back at his work. She smirks, amused and moves closer before sitting next him before taking the piece into her hands and observing it closely, humming in approval.

"Is this what you've been so secretive of?" Sansa questions, as she was wondering what her twin had been up to as he often disappeared longer than normal. She knew it had to be something, as she could feel the anxiety course through her own body like waves on the shore. She figured it was due to this marriage, he had argued profusely with Ned and Cat, mainly their mother about the ordeal.

"I-I didn't know what to give her." He confesses, fiddling with his carving knife. "I mean, what do you give the Lady of Highgarden? Or any Lady that has the world already given to her?"

Sansa eyes the piece a moment longer before looking to Kenjrick with a soft smile, "You give her what coin could never afford. Your heart."

He scoffs slightly but blushes. "Always the poet." Sansa giggles and hands the wooden rose back to him.

"It's perfect Kenj," She continues. "This is something she will cherish forever, something coin can not buy as it is a glimpse into your heart."

He looks down at the wooden rose and wolf, feeling as if the wolf was truly looking at him. It was then that Sansa felt the anxiety flow from her brother, the nervousness that plagued him. Yes Kenjrick is big for his age, and is brutish looking due to his mass and he commands the Hunts and patrols around Winterfell; but her twin was the most sensitive man she has ever met. Not in a punkish way, just in tune with his feelings and often felt a bit vulnerable when showing these sides of himself.