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funny how the stars
crossed right.
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The endless road stretched before them, a wilderness of snow-topped mountains that slowly bled into vast grassy plains. The land felt as if it would never end, a place where time and space played tricks on the weary travelers. Thalia's feet throbbed from the journey, each step heavier than the last. The never-ending landscape before them mocked her exhaustion, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was sick to death of rabbits. The stringy meat Osha had been snaring barely filled the gnawing hunger in her belly, and her dreams of a soft bed were becoming more painful by the day.
Leo and Rickon trudged beside her, their faces set in determined silence. Bran, fragile and bound to his fate, lay in the cart they had scavenged from an abandoned farm just a few leagues back. Hodor, ever faithful, pushed the cart forward with quiet strength. The sound of wooden wheels grinding over the uneven dirt road was the only thing breaking the monotony of their march.
As the sun began to sink into the horizon, casting long shadows over the grassy plain, Thalia slowed her pace. "I think we should stop here and set up camp," she said, her voice betraying the weariness she felt in every bone. She shifted the straps of the heavy bags on her shoulders, their weight a constant reminder of the burden they all carried. "The light's fading. It'll be dark soon."
The group came to a halt, though she could see the protest rising in Osha's wildling eyes. "No," the woman spat, shaking her head. "We need to keep moving. It's not safe here. The open ground makes us too easy a target."
Thalia dropped to the ground, the exhaustion finally overcoming her patience. "The boys are tired," she countered, "and Hodor can't push Bran all night without rest. We stay, get some sleep, and move before dawn." She gestured to the children, their young faces drawn with fatigue. Osha muttered something under her breath but relented, helping Hodor ease Bran out of the cart.
As the group settled into their routine, everyone had their role. Thalia and the boys erected makeshift tents with the blankets they had scavenged from the farm, using sticks for support. Hodor knelt by the firepit, arranging kindling and dry wood, while Osha worked at skinning the unfortunate squirrel she had caught earlier in the day. It was a rare break from their usual diet of rabbits, though Thalia couldn't muster much enthusiasm for the stringy meal.
