Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords
|Kajal. College student. Real Madrid. La Roja. Game of Thrones. A Song of Ice and Fire. Random shit.|
A wildling arrow ripped through the throat of the straw sentinel beside him, but Jon Snow scarcely noticed. Give me one clean shot at the Magnar of Thenn, he prayed to his father’s gods. The Magnar at least was a foe that he could hate. Give me Styr."
He looked at his stump and grimaced. I must do something about that. Of the late Ser Jacelyn Bywater could wear an iron hand, he should have a gold one. Cersei would like that. A golden hand to stroke her golden hair, and hold her hard against me."