Episode one: A Cold Whisper {Game of Thrones} (COMPLETED)

Harley

Blood spurted like an erupting volcano from the slice in the crow's neck. The fat man fell, spluttered for a few seconds, then died looking like a slaughtered pig. The white snow slowly turned red with the fat crow's blood.

The killer wiped her blade on the dead man's mountain of a belly.

"You're pretty good considering your weapon choice," said the strong hairy man beside her, Erik, "but that was my kill, Harley."

Harley sheathed her dagger and tucked it into the waistband of her trousers.

"It's made from the bones of my enemies," she said, indicating toward her dagger, "he wasn't your kill because I got there first."

Erik narrowed his eyes. He turned, and continued moving back to the freefolk's camp.
Harley followed, not wanting to lose sight of him but wanting more than anything to never see him again.

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North of the wall was a cold, bitter place. It got colder the further north one went and the freefolk's camp just so happened to be the furthest north Harley had ever been.

The snow was soft on her boots and each footstep sunk about an inch and a half deep into the fluffy white substance.

Harley and her five companions trudged through it, heading in one direction and not speaking a word to each other. She just wanted to get back home. Her feet ached and cramped up and the cuts in her flesh stung in the frosty air.

Harley felt safe when they finally got back to their camp. She was keeping an eye out for her tent when someone jumped onto her back.

She started, and grabbed the person by the scruff of his neck and flung him toward the snowy ground.

The boy groaned.

Harley let out a long sigh, "for fucksake Farlan, I thought you was attacking me." she helped her thin, jet-black haired brother up off the ground.

"I was," he grinned and pulled her to the ground with him. He jumped up before she could. Harley laughed,
"Come on brother, 'elp me up."

Farlan had dark black eyes and pure black hair, like his sister. His face was narrow and his jawline sharp. He had pale white skin, with not even a single freckle to be seen. His face was smooth and his eyebrows pointed. Even his ears were slightly pointed at the top. His lips were thin, and the same colour as his skin.

When Harley and her twin brother Farlan had stopped messing around, they headed back toward their family's tent.

"Mam!" Harley hugged her mother tight.

"How're you?" Her mother asked, "you were away a lot longer than expected..."

"Oliver got injured. We had to make camp for a few nights til he was able to walk again." Harley explained. "Papa isn't in, is 'e?"

Her mum looked down, "no he's... The usual." She explained hesitantly.

There was a deadly silence.

Farlan spoke first,
"Come on Harl, tell us wha' happened!"