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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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[ 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.

You didn't see the shadows last jump?

[ though she claims it was only the heat, arya doesn't believe it. the more corporeal shadows now only feed her suspicions. these things have been around for some time; they're only now showing themselves. she doesn't know why. ]

You did?

[Did he see them too? Bran tries to remember. Last jump seems so long ago, and he was so worried over Robb, and Mother, and Sansa--and it was so hot--but surely there was something. The flickers, out of the corners of his sight, like a creature running very close, and lingering, and running away once more.]

I-- think I did. But they could not have been like this. These are more than shadows.

I don't know. I think they might be. There's always that feeling when you wake up again. Like you're being watched.

[ after a time the jumps all began to meld together in the monotony of repetition. only a few stand out. arya was paranoid from the beginning, spent so long believing the ship to be a trick — wanting it to be — but she does not think her firsts were like these ones.

smiley's warnings come to mind again. arya remembers every cryptic red message. ( what would the kindly man make of such a creature? could he understand smiley? neither are themselves.

maybe that's why she continues to seek him out. the kindly man never told a lie either. ) ]

Something's happening, [ she says slowly. ( do you think or do you know? ) ] And whatever they are, they've got stronger now so we can see them. Or they're more daring. I think.

[Watched. Like a thousand eyes. Bran thinks of the smell in Summer's nose as he ran, flat and dead and cold--and yet the feeling of being in the wood, the feeling of eyes.]

Then we must know how to fight them.

[If they are watching, if they are growing more daring--]

Or else we must learn about them, too. If we could know what they are, and what they intend--if we could know anything of them--surely that would help us.

[Help when the shadows do act--for they will act. They must.]

There's no one to ask. [ nothing to consult, no wise men. ] The only one who ever talks to us is Himself and he only ever talks in riddles.

[ and smiley only appears so rarely. arya wishes she could track him down somehow. or that he would stop disconnecting every conversation before she can get something useful. ]

[The red face, that wears the smile. That's who she means, it must be. Everyone is afraid of the smiling face, and Bran does not much like it, either.

But a man is brave, when he is afraid. He remembers the weight of his father's hand on his shoulder, and he lays a hand on Summer's head. He can feel the little twitches of his direwolf's eyes, as he looks around.]

We could seek him, then. If he knows the answers, we could find him and ask. And if he answered in riddles, then we could learn their answers too. Everyone is afraid of him, and that means that we should find him.

He won't say where he is. Just that he's "inside." [ whatever that means.

arya chews her lip as she thinks. ] We could try to call him out. But we can't make it obvious that's what we're doing. [ or risk the guard dogs falling on them. ]

[There are many places to be inside, aboard the ship. Bran frowns, and knits his fingers in Summer's fur. Many people have gone against this force, but he will not be afraid. He will have Summer, and Arya, and Nymeria. They will learn something.]

Then we should do it. There are places in the ship that are far from people. We can go there, and try to summon him. If he truly wants to help, he will show himself.

We can try. [ grounded forever, fuck yeah. ] When do you think we should?

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