North of the Wall.
Going north of the Wall was considered a dangerous duty, of course. The veterans of the Knights of the Watch shuddered at the memories of being north of the Wall during winter. Recruits had no idea, not the slightest clue of their mortality... not yet. The unending nights, ceaseless winds and thick snow filled even the hardiest of men with dread. Fires could not warm and furs could not keep the cold at bay. Horses dropped dead within moments, as did men. It was no secret that food would rapidly run short north of the Wall, and any meat was an option for consumption.
Being north of the Wall was certainly better during the other seasons, but it still wasn't good. It didn't always snow, the winds were calmer and daylight sometimes came about. Heron Joktil was what some would consider a veteran - he'd been a Knight of the Watch through only one winter, but it was etched into his memory. He kept himself quite reserved around the recruits - none of them, as far as he was aware, knew what he had done across the Wall during the winter. Only he and a few of the other veterans knew. He simply kept to himself and focused whilst he was on patrol. It was during one of Heron Joktil's patrols that he came across a peculiar sight not too far from the Wall.
A boy. He trudged through the snow with what appeared to be sack cradled in his hands. He had an incredible shake about him, and his skin was a pale blue. A frightening sight indeed for a Knight of the Watch. Heron dismounted his horse and rushed to the boy's aid, who soon collapsed into the snow throwing the sack forward slightly. It rolled for a short while in the snow, leaving a trail of blood behind it. Heron stopped short of the sack, his eyes wide and searching for anything strange nearby. He placed a hand on his sword and approached the sack. What was it? It had blood coming from it, so clearly it had once been alive whatever was being kept in it. He approached slowly, his eyes darting from the sack to the boy, to the forest surrounding him and then back to the sack again. He knelt down by the sack, slowly extending his hand to to reveal what was in the sack.
There was a crunching up ahead,
"Get away from my sister!" bellowed the boy, swiping at the Knight with a frozen, weak fist. Heron caught it in flight, threw it aside and grabbed the boys collar. He lifted the boy from the floor a few inches, level to his own face, and drew a dagger to his throat.
"Who are you, boy? Speak clearly, or you'll be choking on your own blood," Heron warned in his quiet yet gruff voice. The boy however passed out again, probably from exhaustion. Heron dropped him in the snow, his body landing with a soft thump. Sighing, he looked back to the sack with a sickening feeling growing in his gut. His sister?
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Lyster was having the nightmare again. Something was following him and his sister in the dark. She couldn't walk in the thick snow, so Lyster had to carry her. She wouldn't stop crying either, beating at his chest as he desperately sprinted through the snow and pass the trees away from the huge, blue-eyed darkness that was following them. It was getting closer. It's huge, thumping footsteps were closing in on them.
He awoke with a jolt, almost smacking his head on the bed above him...
OOC: Would be awesome if I could rp with a few people
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