He reached to touch his hair as though he could understand what made it so good for ruffling. It'd got long on the journey north.

"I don't know what Reynald thinks of me," Bran confessed as he took a bite of the ice cream before holding out the spoon to her in case she wanted any. It was hard to see him and think of him as Robb's son, as his own nephew. Bran looked at him and his heart hurt for Rickon. "It's shiny metal, not colorful. And light enough to carry. We don't have anything like it at home."