The Stag and The Frog - (GendryxMeera, GOT Fanfic) Part 2: Together

39: It's happening again

The river whirled and roared beneath them. Droplets of water flew in the air and formed a cold mist. Sharp cliffs lined both sides of the waterway, slippery and slick from a treacherous invincible layer of ice. A rickety rope bridge hung precariously over the stream.

"I guess they put up a new bridge," Tormund yelled, to drown out the sound from the loud waters. "Hopefully this one is better than the old one..."

"The old one was worse?" Devan yelled back. He wondered how that was even possible as this bridge looked like it could collapse at any moment. It certainly didn't seem strong enough to transport five people across.

Many men had died crossing Dead Man's Pass and Devan feared he would soon be one of them.

He bent down and petted one of the sleddogs who nudged against his leg. They had traveled by dog sled for weeks now and Devan had become fond of all the canine creatures who transported them. It was hard not to when they curled up next to him by the fire at night.

"How are we going to get you over, Moss?" he said to the dog by his legs. "It's not like you can walk on the ropes..."

The dog had long white-grey fur, similar in color to the moss the mammoths ate. That's probably where it had got its name from. All the dogs had nature-inspired names: Frost, Pine, Birch, and several more than Devan couldn't remember. But Devan had developed a particular liking to Moss during the past few weeks. Moss was boisterous, loud, and keen on engaging in childish games. Just like Devan. He and the dog had spent many evenings throwing sticks and wrestling playfully on the frozen tundra.

"We'll leave him and the other dogs here," Tormund said. "We can't get the sleds over anyway. There's a wildling camp up ahead where they will take care of them."

Before Devan could protest Tormund had walked away from him. "You don't want to get left here, do you?" Devan whispered to the dog next to him. Moss howled in response and all the dogs around them started to howl as well, even Ghost chimed in. The sound of the howling almost drowned out the roaring of the river.

"Stop riling the dogs up, seabird," Tormund yelled at him. "Come here and help us prepare for the traverse over the river instead."

With Moss in tow Devan walked over to where Tormund stood. A couple of wildlings had arrived from the village to take care of the dogs and the sleds. Tormund, Lyra, and Jorelle were busy repacking their items from the sleds into fur bags with straps that they would carry on their backs for the rest of the journey. Castle Black was only a few days on foot after they crossed the river.

Jon stood and looked suspiciously at the whirling waters below them. The fall would be quite far down from the cliffs where they stood, and then the waters would sweep them away. Only a few twisted ropes kept them from that fate.

"Do you trust that bridge?" Devan asked.

Jon sighed. "Tormund tells me it's safe," he said. "And I usually trust Tormund. But he did forget to tell me has children..."

Jon tried to look over at Lyra discreetly. Devan had noticed him sneaking out of their tent every night. Jon and Devan shared a tent on their travels and so did Lyra and Jorelle. Where Tormund slept, or if he slept, was unclear. Devan suspected the wildling just laid down in the snow and made himself comfortable. Tormund never seemed to freeze, rather he was exhilarated by the cold.

The dogs usually slept in a giant pile outside by the fire, all curled up around Ghost. But when Jon left their tent Devan always took the opportunity to sneak Moss into the tent instead and had him lay down in Jon's spot. Which led to all Jon's clothes being covered in dog fur. Devan had seen Jon look at the grey hairs all over his black clothes with an exasperated look, but he never said anything. Most mornings Jorelle appeared in Devan's tent soon after Jon left, claiming that she couldn't sleep as her sister was snoring. With the dog lying between them they told tales about deep waters, high mountains, and snowy fields. Some stories were true, some were not. Jorelle was amazingly enough even more talkative than Devan.