THE NORTH BEYOND | JON SNOW

CHAPTER FOUR.

Sometime during that night I fell into a slumber. I dreamt of a wolf I'd never seen before being stabbed, I dreamt of its pained whimpers, and it's almost black eyes staring at me. I looked down and saw its blood on my hands and the knife used to stab it on the ground in front of me. I watched it while it whimpered and fell to the ground, my mouth open in shock and I woke up, gasping and looked down frantically at my hands to see nothing. There was no blood on my hands, but it felt so real and I couldn't resist the urge to scrub my hands against my furs to make sure nothing was there. I stepped out of my hut and walked around, clenching my hands into a fist when I heard talking.

Craster must have found the crow following him. I felt a weight lift, I didn't realise how much could have gone wrong. I caught sight of the crow outside of Craster's tent, his face bloody and bruised and contemplated going now, before the sun rise to give me a head start to make my way south and quickly decided against it. I needed some of the food in Craster's larder, I didn't know what food is left to hunt with Craster offering up everything he could to keep the Others away and I never did learn to shoot an arrow well. This would mean staying another day though, and every day I stayed gave Rowe a chance to tell Craster that I was breaking our deal. Not to mention that Mance's wargs would see the crows staying here soon and might also see me as well. What a fucking mess, I thought.

All I needed was some food from the larder and I could leave as soon as I wanted. Only one very small problem: I first needed to find out where Craster's larder was. And coupled with the fact that everyone here already hated me worse than the Gods Craster made offerings to, it wasn't going to be easy. No body liked me, it was no secret, but maybe someone else I knew could tell me the location of that larder. Someone who might be the only decent person left in this place. And someone who I also just refused to help and now has no reason to do anything for me.

I thought about whether to leave without the ladder, and as I watched Craster give the crows until first light to pack up and leave, I also decided to leave as well, with the risk of being caught by the other free folk outweighing the bouts of hunger I would have to endure if I couldn't catch a decent meal. I was no stranger to hunger and I'd heard stories about what us free folk can conjure up to make our enemies scream, how to keep them just alive that they can feel everything without falling into the peaceful slumber of death. And I assumed that the reality would probably be worse than the stories.

I watched the crow that followed Craster into the woods press ice to his face, I found myself walking towards him, stopping in front of him. He takes one look up at me, taking the ice off his face, and looks back down and puts the ice on his face.

"You told Craster that I was following him." It wasn't a question, more statement.

I thought about lying, but there was no point, "Yes," I replied, "sorry about your face."

"Why..." He pauses before continuing, "why me?"

"It weren't nothing personal, but none of the other crows would have given two shits." It was true, his heroism got him here. But heroism isn't rewarded beyond the Wall. Nobody cares about honour. It's about survival. It's about living to make it to the next day, when everything around you is trying to kill you.

"You knew what he was doing to his own sons. You know what's taking them away, why isn't anyone stopping it?" He says, darting his eyes around for anyone watching.

I was surprised at the anger I felt at his words, who was this crow to insult people who only did their best to live, even if it meant enduring all of Craster's cruelties? Who was he, to insult women who'd suffered and endured so much more than him, to call them cowards for trying to survive. "Aye, we all know about it. What do you want us to do? If he can do that to you, then what would he do to girls who have never picked up a weapon before in their lives? Where would they go? South so all the crows could round them up and kill them? Or North so the blue eyed Walkers could round them up and kill them? Craster is all they have. So go back south where you belong, crow." I turn around and start walking back to my hut.

He looks away, half embarrassed and half thoughtful. "You said "them", not us. Who are you? What's your name?"

I stop walking, cursing inwardly at my mistake and turn back. "Watch out, the further north you go, the less chance you'll ever make it back." Then I carry on walking without looking back.

When I reach my hut, I roll up the fur blanket draped over my bet and put it inside my bag, testing its weight before stepping out of my tent into the semi light, wondering how long it will take me to reach the Wall. And what lies beyond.

-

Fuck, I should have taken some of the larder from Craster's Keep.

My wolf is too big to chase the small rabbits and squirrels that skip around the snow and there was no a chance that I was getting close enough to use my dagger on them. Every other animal big enough for me to hunt was either at the Keep or dead.

I'd been walking a day now, and with each hour my pace slows as the hunger seeps into every part of me and I am made painfully aware of how empty my stomach is. Even in sleep it manages to creep its away into my head and I wake up tired, my bones weighing me down, my head spinning and my fingers numb from the cold. I find some small edible plants buried in the snow that will mask the hunger until my wolf can make a kill and I sit down and swallow it quickly ignoring the bitter taste and the off putting crunch it makes in my mouth.

I should have been more aware. If only I had looked up...

I should have looked around more, but there's nothing like hunger to dull all of your senses. If only I'd looked, I would have seen a large eagle, its eyes glazed white as it watched me stumble closer and closer to the Wall.