the hounds have a strong scent.
my father sent me on this hunt.
it is not my first
it is not my last
i can’t let him down.
i must prevail.
the family name is at stake
and all though i don’t share it i dream of it.
i am his only son.
i am looked upon with shame.
but i do what he does and i do it well.
i take pride in my hunting,
it fills me with joy.
i am a stain,
i want it,
i want it more than any snow.
i want to be among the butchers and hunters who carried his name
i want to be his real son.
faster than man, caught my prey.
they tear him apart.
the man begs for mercy
begs for death
but it isn’t up to me.
i take him to father,
to the house.
i take him to my lord,
to the dreadfort.
i hope father is pleased.
i serve him better than his advisors!
i serve him better than his soldiers!
i am his son.
the prisoner will be flayed!
he will be tortured!
he will be broken and skinned!
this is our houses way.
i hope when i arrive father will let me do the honors.
i hope he lets me torture this scoundrel.
i hope he lets me serve him.
i have never failed him and never will.
i arrive at the gates trophy in hand
but nothing has changed i am still ramsay snow.
i remain among the many snows,
one of millions unwanted and unclaimed children of the north.
i pray not for long.
i hope to be beside my father and wear his name.
someday carry our banner, not his.
someday i wish to share the name,