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a collection of dragon dreams, oldtown winds, silver hair, green velvet, and the fictional people who occupy far too much of my mindྀི🤍🕯🦢 ˚。 𖹭

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the northern girl. winterfell's daughter. we heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leathery wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window.

there are no heroes...in life, the monsters win.

the northern girl. winterfell's daughter. we heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leathery wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. george r.r. martin, a storm of swords

“they are children,” sansa thought. “they are silly little girls, even elinor. they’ve never seen a battle, they’ve never seen a man die, they know nothing. their dreams were full of songs and stories, the way hers had been before joffrey cut her fathers head off. sansa pitied them. sansa envied them.”

“they are children,” sansa thought. “they are silly little girls, even elinor. they’ve never seen a battle, they’ve never seen a man die, they know nothing. their dreams were full of songs and stories, the way hers had been before joffrey cut her fathers head off. sansa pitied them. sansa envied them.” — george r.r. martin, a storm of swords, a song of ice and fire‌‌