[there's another wolf out on the streets of epiphany tonight, though she's confined to two legs at the moment. her woolen dress, though, has silver wolves dancing down its charcoal sleeves and across her back. there's the sound of a wolf howling, though there's something uncanny about it, and it seems to be coming from the raven perched on her shoulder.

sansa glares at the head of the wolf pack with stubborn grey eyes.]

You ought to know better than to go about attacking people on the streets. He is no threat to you, and he's not suitable for the hunt. Your mother ought to have told you that.

[if lady were here, she could have sent these little cousins scurrying away with one growl. sansa tries not to dwell on it.]