He could not sleep—it would not bode well for the young King. So he wandered Deepwood Motte for a touch of time, trying to clear his mind. It was to his surprise that he found himself now face to face with Sansa. “Sansa. What are you doing up still?” The moon illuminated his face—a face of weariness and confusion with furrowed brows.
:: 〖 ❣ 〗――— ::
"Oh! By the Gods, Jon. You scared me.“
She pushes back her hair from her
face, one hand pressed to her chest to
calm her pounding heart. Snow falls in
sheets outside, the windows collecting
frost on its corners. She even manages
to look a little sheepish.
”I heard the wind– sleep is proving elusive, I fear.“