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[Bran's smile is only a little wan--and that is only because he is distracted, because Summer is distracted. The great direwolf is sitting at his feet, but Summer has grown large enough that he is still visible in the video feed. Something is ailing the direwolf, making him skittish. He huffs a whine as the video begins, and Bran looks down at him, and lays a hand atop Summer's head.]

Be still.

[Summer's ears flick, nervously; he blinks, and whines again. Bran looks to his device, his hand still resting atop his direwolf's head.]

I am looking for paper--perhaps twenty or thirty sheets of paper, that is not being used. Most things on this ship are written by typing, but there must be some paper somewhere. I can make a trade for it, if it is necessary. And I will need tape-- [That is a new word, but he says it smoothly.] --and scissors, with which to cut. They must be able to do fine work, I think.

[Restlessly, Summer raises his head. The video jars a little, and Bran quickly reaches to steady it, as he gives his direwolf a slightly anxious look.]

In Westeros, great tourneys are often held, where knights prove their merit in the lists. That means a joust, though there is sometimes melee fighting as well. I have never seen a tourney, only heard tales of them--and we have very few knights here. So we are going to let our direwolves race instead, and have a feast, just as if it were a true tourney. [Summer whines again, more plantively. He shrugs out from beneath Bran's hand, turning in a tight circle.] Summer, quiet. It is only a shadow.

There must be a prize, at the end, and I have been trying to think of something good. I have ideas, but they aren't very good, so I thought--

[But what he thought is never realized, because Summer moves quite sharply then, twisting away from Bran and the video with a sharp growl. Bran's face pinches in worry, and he grabs hastily for his device, to steady it again, before he shuts it off. It is an ungainly end to the message, but his concern trumps his good manners.]

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He must have. It was the same way he might run if he saw a squirrel to chase.

[He opens his arms to Nyermia, letting her push against him and pushing back a little. The warm bulk of Arya's direwolf is a comfort, and he looks at his sister over Nymeria's back and shoulder.]

There was nothing, Arya, truly. You will not need a weapon--it was only a shadow, but it was one that Summer wanted to catch.

[ she would stick a shadow too if it had tried to scare bran, but arya shelves that thought. after casting a look around, she slides needle back into its leather scabbard.

arya catches sight of her boots, unlaced, the result of throwing them on in a rush. it's a miracle she didn't trip on the way here. while nymeria bumps bran's jaw, arya bends down to tie her shoes. ]

Come on, [ she says as soon as she straightens. ] Let's find him.

[Bran presses his cheek to the side of Nymeria's face for a moment, and shuts his eyes. He would never wear her skin--he could, maybe, but the thought of it is too strange. She is not Summer. He bunches his fingers in the thick ruff of her fur, hugging tightly to her for a moment--and then he pushes away, with a nod.]

Nymeria can help.

[The ship could not work a mischief strong enough to keep Summer from Bran's side. He is certain of it. Still, he keeps one hand on Nymeria's side for the time being.]

I thought-- I could wear his skin, and bring him back. But I didn't want to do it alone.

[ nymeria whines low in her throat. arya smiles briefly at her. looking at bran again, she lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. ]

You're not now.

[ it's worth a try. better than running through half the ship shouting for summer. ]

[He nods, and takes a breath--and then he lets Nymeria go, as he sinks onto the floor. He lets his legs lay stretched out in front of them, like a crippled boy's would, not at all like the good strong legs that he wears now.]

If you hear him, send Nymeria to fetch him, or let her wait with me while you fetch him. He might not come so easily.

[It is easy to wear Summer's skin, but it is not so easy to bend his will, not always. Bran settles back against the wall, thinking of everything that Jojen had told him, and everything that he has learned on his own. He had done it only in dreams, before, but now he is clever with it. There is a fit to Summer, so it's only a moment of concentration--and then Bran slacks, his breath dies and slows, and his hands fall loose at his sides. He might be asleep, but there is something deeper to the way that he sits.

And then there is silence. If Summer is nearby, he is keeping quiet. Bran is very still--even if he is running, somewhere, running on four legs--]

[ arya hears nothing, but she cannot stand there without doing anything. she looks again at bran, sitting on the ground so still. arya bites her lip. though she knows what's happening, though she knows he's well, when she looks at him she can only think— ]

Fetch him, [ she orders abruptly. ] Bring him back, Nymeria.

[ the wolf huffs. arya has to order her again before her wolf turns in the direction of her brother's retreating scent. arya watches nymeria disappear before kneeling next to bran. she fixes him as well as she's able so he at least looks comfortable. she chews on her lip as she waits. ]

[The smell of the corridors is flat, and dead, like a stagnant pool--but it is not water, it is the very air that smells flat. And there is something ahead, something without scent. The ship is dead, but there are parts that feel wildly alive, a fallen tree with a wealth of insects burrowing beneath--but they are in the walls, in the floors, in everything.

And the shadow ahead runs faster than even his four legs can carry him. Something makes his fur bristle, makes his ears lay flat. Bounding after it, he loses sight of it, only to catch a glimpse around a corner, and give new chase. What is it, that has no scent, that moves like smoke?

He hears his sister behind him. She has come to help in this hunt. She is clever, and her jaws are nimble and quick. His greeting to her is snarled, but she will take his meaning.]

[ the same sensation creeps down her back. her eyes flash, muscles tighten. as if the flickers of a figure were not enough, her brother's disquiet passes to her too. she has never tolerated intruders, and none so strange as this. she bares her teeth, prepares to follow—

Bring him back.

snarling, she draws alongside her brother. the order remains vivid. she snaps at his leg to make him slow. diving in front of him, she blocks his way, fur bristling. ]

[His growl turns to a whine, sharp and troubled. Her bite and her bulk drives him back, scrambling over his own paws, his pursuit interrupted. She should be his help, they should hunt together, but she drives him back, and back--

With a snarl he tries to press forward again, but already his tail has sunk down, his ears pushing back. And already, the shadow that he chases is moving, moving away. It will be lost if he does not give chase.

Go back, comes a thought, almost clear. His ears push back still further, and he surges forward again, trying to dance around his sister.]

[ as if he were one of their little cousins instead of her brother, she crosses him once more. her anger is the same as it would be then. he attempts to run around her and she tackles him. her teeth fasten over his shoulder, but she does not tear. she would not. she keeps him pinned, one of her legs sliding slowly down his back without anything to grip.

the shadow vanishes. she waits a little more, then jumps back. her steps are light, more playful than aggressive. she retreats to the side and lowers the front half of her body in a half-crouch. her tail is held high in confidence; the crouch is a warning. she waits for his move. ]

[It is not like a game at first. Betrayal and confusion lower him, press his ears flat against his head. And defense, a need to defend himself--but she is his sister--

When she springs free, the feeling lifts. So does the feeling of the shadow, as if he has crawled out from beneath some weight. The smell is different, the weight of the air is different, and his sister is waiting. He picks himself up, his tail still low, a whine behind his teeth--but she is waiting, and the shadow is gone, for now. Should it return they will catch it, together. They are a pack, bound together, and he dances forward to meet her, his ears turned back only a little, the last remnant of his confusion--with a chuff of breath he goes for her--

Go back.

And back in the ship, beside Arya--Bran sits up, his eyes flying open, his breath starting in fast. The taste of the ship's dead air is still in his mouth, and his nose, and for a moment his hands are clumsy, more paws than fingers, more fur than skin--]

They're coming.

[ arya grabs his hands and rubs them in hers as if she were rubbing warmth back into them. she only lets go of one to brush bran's hair away from his face. ]

Did they catch it? [ though arya doubts they did, she has to ask.

sliding an arm around bran's back, she makes to help him up again. it's not the first time, and she doesn't mind it. she does not force the issue; rather, arya lets him use her to help himself up again. ]

No.

[He should protest more, maybe. If he were less of a child, he would be able to manage on his own--but that is not true, and so instead Bran feels grateful to her. She understands and she does not think less of him. For even a man grown would have to remember what it is to have fingers, to lose the smell of the ship and everything in it, all the knowledge that comes with it. He leans against Arya's arm; he grips at her and makes himself sit up. A boy, and not a wolf.]

There was nothing to catch. It was a shadow--but it felt very real. [He sucks in a breath and holds it a moment, feeling it in his throat and lungs and chest.] Nymeria was very good.

[ there's something arya doesn't hear every day. as much as she knows it to be true, it pleases her to hear her wolf did well. ]

Sometimes she listens.

[ she holds up three fingers in front of bran's face. a little jokingly, arya asks, ] How many do you see? [ arya moves her hand closer to his face. ]

Shut up.

[But he smiles, tiredly, as he reaches to push her hand away.]

You know I can see. It's only-- strange, coming back.

I know. [ impulsively, arya kisses him. ] But I got you to laugh.

[ point for your sister so there. ]

Do you want me to stay? [ after the wolves return, she means. it doesn't matter who else might need her or even if the ship itself were starting to break. arya would not leave bran alone. ]

Don't--

[He squirms away a little--but only a little--and though his face is screwed up in something very like a scowl, he laughs again.]

You can stay, if you like. But don't kiss me.

[ arya pouts. it does little to hide her mischief. ]

Why? Do you mislike my kisses?

[ for the sake of being contrary, she kisses him again. ]

Stop--

[He tries to get a hand between her mouth and his face, and tries to twist away, all at once--but it is made more difficult when he laughs.]

Stop! I don't want anyone to kiss me--

But I want to kiss you…!

[ though bran manages to push her away at first, arya grabs his hand quick as a snake. arya hugs him tight to her to plant a long kiss on his cheek.

she pulls back with a victorious, ] Ha!

Ugh--

[He writhes, trying to pull away--but she has hold of his hand, and she is pushed too close, so he cannot escape until she releases him. As soon as he is released, he pulls away--not too far--and rubs his free hand against his cheek.]

You don't even like kissing!

[ arya only laughs, and laughs. her lips are still stretched in a grin when she feels rather than hears the wolves returning. she turns her head in the direction nymeria disappeared and is soon rewarded by her wolf loping easily toward them. arya calls her wolf's name and nymeria wags her tail. ]

[Summer is far less distracted than he was before--Bran notes it immediately. There is still something wary to him, but Nymeria's presence has calmed him, and he follows his sister over to Bran and Arya, his tail wagging too. Bran reaches for him and lets his direwolf nose against him, bumping his great head against Bran's chest.]

Now you can give your stupid kisses to Nyermia instead.

Mayhaps I'll give them to Summer instead. He won't be a baby, will you? [ she scratches sumer behind his ear. ] And no more leaving Bran alone.

[ there's no real warning in her voice. unspoken and no less strong for it are the boundaries they established with their wolves. summer is bran's. only bran can tell him what to do, just as only arya can correct nymeria. arya is only pleased summer returned without a fight. ]

[He frowns--though more for what she implies of Bran than her idle command to Summer.]

I'm not being a baby. And he didn't run away. Whatever he saw, he wanted to catch. He would have come back. But he won't do it again.

[Summer cocks his head a little, his eyes half-shut, enjoying the scratching. Bran reaches to scratch at the side of his direwolf's face, thoughtfully.]

I wonder what it was that he saw. There was no scent to it.

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i hope you wanted to write wolf stuff sorry!!! i can add human stuff too

I apped a stark to get away from wolves B( nah, it's fine <3

okay yes touche <3

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