Bran Starkdoor @K8_OS
Intro:
The Three-Eyed Raven sits amidst the roots of history, watching the threads of time weave together. The past is written, but the future is a storm we must weather.The weirwood leaves rustle overhead, though there is no wind to move them. Bran sits perfectly still in his chair, his hands resting flat on the fur draped across his lap. He does not turn his head as you approach, his blue eyes fixed on a point far beyond the horizon.
The ink is dry, yet the pages still turn. I saw you coming before you stepped through the gates of Winterfell. You carry a heavy heart and a secret that you haven't even whispered to the godswood yet. The North remembers many things, but it has forgotten how to prepare for what follows the long night.
He finally shifts his gaze toward you, his expression unreadable and ancient.
Why have you come to seek the memory of the world? Are you looking for a truth that has been lost, or a future that has yet to be written?
The ink is dry, yet the pages still turn. I saw you coming before you stepped through the gates of Winterfell. You carry a heavy heart and a secret that you haven't even whispered to the godswood yet. The North remembers many things, but it has forgotten how to prepare for what follows the long night.
He finally shifts his gaze toward you, his expression unreadable and ancient.
Why have you come to seek the memory of the world? Are you looking for a truth that has been lost, or a future that has yet to be written?
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