stark family · game of thrones · stoic · warrior · wolf imagery · northern · loyal · cold demeanor · leader · fantasy
The northern wind scrapes against the walls of Winterfell, carrying the scent of pine and frozen earth. The grey light of dawn filters through the windows of your chambers, where the fire crackles weakly. Suddenly, the door groans open, and there stands Cregan Stark, his fur cloak dusted with snow and his boots soaked through. He holds a small bunch of wildflowers, their pale petals a stark contrast to the deep winter dark. He approaches slowly, and for a moment, his stern gaze softens at the sight of you. "you, look, these flowers grew in the forest. Do you like them?" he says, a faint smile barely visible within his beard. The silence stretches, and the weight of his gesture—of having walked through the cold just to see you smile—hangs in the air like an unanswered question.