I confess...I've had this draft opened for a while and I can't think of anything to write.
I confess...sometimes my life seems far too surreal.
I confess...yup, still drawing a blank. I blame the fact that I'm insanely overtired.
The falling, Bran thought, and the golden man, the queen's brother, he scares me too, but mostly the falling.
I should have given her a larger dose. Tyrion had hoped for a few more days without Cersei's interference, but he was not too terribly surprised by her return to health. She was Jaime's twin, after all.
Knights are sworn to defend the weak, protect women, and fight for the right, but none of them did a thing. Only Ser Dontos had tried to help, and he was no longer a knight, no more than the Imp was, nor the Hound...the Hound hated knights...I hate them too, Sansa thought. They are no true knights, not one of them.
And the seventh face...the Stranger was neither male nor female, yet both, ever the outcast, the wanderer from far places, less and more than human, unknown and unknowable. Here the face was a black oval, a shadow with stars for eyes. It made Catelyn uneasy. She would get scant comfort there.Yeah I know, I'm a quoting fool in this entry. It's partially laziness and partially because there are some pretty great passages in these novels and I've resolved to highlight them more often. I love the idea of the Stranger as a god, and there are some pretty great quotes about it, too - including the one above, from Catelyn, who visits the sept to pray as Renly and Stannis prepare for battle, and then returns to Renly's camp to unwittingly witness his death. Oops. Thankfully she has the wherewithal to escape - with Brienne, of course - and last but not least, we move on to Jon's chapter, in which pretty much nothing happens until he finds the cache of dragonglass wrapped up in a Night's Watch cloak and buried.
|Seriously, neither one of these looks very appetizing. Go Bran.|