You must miss yourfather terribly, I know. She shit on the Imp's head and flew off. When he woke, the maester was sewing at his arm with needle and catgut. His bald head, spotted withage, thrust out from his scrawny shoulders on a long pink neck.
Frozen sweat. Davos wondered what he saw there. Aryatried to imagine how they would look when they were dead, but it was hard to bring their faces to mind. Someone was shouting hername, Harwin probably, or Gendry, but the thunder drowned them out as itrolled across the hills, half a heartbeat behind the lightning.
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