The Last Reyne

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The freezing cold cut into his skin like a very fine pieces of glass. He could leave, he could always leave. But he'd be damned to join any clan up here. Besides, he'd likely die before he met another living being in this frigid landscape.

Then there were the Crows. The blasted Nightwatch guarding that damned Wall to keep their pretty little lordlings and ladies fenced in. 

He walked and walked cursing every time the wind started to pick up. The babe on his back started to yowl like a cat and he gritted his teeth. 

"I'm sorry lad." He murmured. "The North is a harsh place, who knows, you might survive." It was a lie. It was a lie he liked telling himself. His son might "live" but not in the common sense. 

A clearing was getting visible and he picked up his pace. The sooner he's out of this cursed place the better. His conscience gnawed at him with every step he took getting him closer to his destination.

Just a couple more steps. Just a couple more steps. Just a couple more steps. 

And he was there. 

Shakily, he took his bundled son, choking back a lump on his throat and hugged him. He then laid the babe on the snow covered land whispering a prayer to the old gods. Then he was up and on the run.

One child. Just one child a year and they would leave them be. 

Leave the child at the round clearing, never look back. Never look back. And he damned knew why. Those eyes bore to your soul, numbing your every being and haunting your dreams. 

Those eyes promised a winter like never before.

Glowing, blue eyes.