Anyone Can Be Killed.

I Was A Journalism Major, And I Would Take Creative Writing Classes As Part Of That, But I Would Also Look For Opportunities To Write Stories For Some Of My Other Classes. So For My Course In Scandinavian History, I Asked If I Could Write Historical Fiction Instead Of Term Papers. Sometimes They’d Say Yes.

I Wonder What The High Septon Would Have To Say About The Sanctity Of Oaths Sworn While Dead Drunk, Chained To A Wall, With A Sword Pressed To Your Chest?

In The End Words Are Just Wind.

Love Is Madness, And Lust Is Poison.

When I Sleep I Turn Into A Wolf. Bran Turned His Face Away And Looked Back Out Into The Night. Do Wolves Dreams?