Not All Men Were Meant To Dance

Explain To Me Why It Is More Noble To Kill Ten Thousand Men In Battle Than A Dozen At Dinner.

Needle Was Robb And Bran And Rickon, Her Mother And Her Father, Even Sansa. Needle Was Winterfell's Grey Walls, And The Laughter Of Its People. Needle Was The Summer Snows, Old Nan's Stories, The Heart Tree With Its Red Leaves And Scary Face, The Warm Earthy Smell Of The Glass Gardens, The Sound Of The North Wind Rattling The Shutters Of Her Room. Needle Was Jon Snow's Smile. He Used To Mess My Hair And Call Me "little Sister," She Remembered, And Suddenly There Were Tears In Her Eyes.

In A Heartbeat, A Thousand Voices Took Up The Chant. King Joffrey And King Robb And King Stannis Were Forgotten, And King Bread Ruled Alone. "bread." They Clamored. "bread, Bread!

We Will Fight A Battle, And Then We Will Rest. Alive Or Dead, We'll Rest." - Jon Snow

His Snores Sounded Like Ducks Mating.