Fortune's Fool
Wind was rushing through the leaves. It made the canopy babble, like a river blanketing the world in an underwater haven. Everything smelled cold and damp and the moon was casting everything in a white light. This was what peace was; silent, calm and cool. Looking up at the inky black sky awash with navy blue, the stars winked at her. Just for her. Safe. Sitting down to clean her paws, she noticed that patches of pale skin flashed in stark contrast to the darkness of her pelt. Clumps of fur were falling out in front of her.
The scent of lilies filled the air as everything began to change.
The sky began to lighten at an alarming pace; birds shrieking at the sudden promise of dawn. The wind had disappeared and a mugginess was closing in on the comfortability of her resting place. A burst of gold and red flooded the sky as the sun materialised overhead. Too hot, too hot, it was just too hot. She heard a twig snap beneath a heavy weight, closer to her ears than what was real, warning her.
They were coming.
The sound of multiple soft paws breaking through the underbrush was carrying on the wind, and they were getting closer. She had to run. She had to get away from them. She had to hide. Adrenaline flooded her system, sprinting as quickly as she could to get away from the sounds. Yet as soon as she reached a hellish pace, they were there, right behind her, snapping and snarling and nipping at her heels. She tore through sharp sticks and stinging leaves - panic flooding everything in stark shades of white. The red of the sky had begun to bleed into the leaves of the trees and if she had taken a moment to listen, she might have heard them screaming. But she was out of time, there was just no more time. An opening in the forest was approaching fast; the sounds of the ocean beckoning her approach. Hope. There was still hope. Such an intense rush of giddy faith lightened her head that she tumbled over what - in hindsight - had been a book.
This was it. They were right on top of her, all she had to do
was
turn
around.
Against her will, the world around her warped and twisted so that the snarling shadows stood afore her, judging her with their sinister eyes.
Familiar eyes.
Her family’s eyes.
Forced into the faces of snarling direwolves.
There was an older, golden alpha male with her father’s eyes, and a maroon female flanking his left - that one had her mother’s eyes. She didn’t have to count the number of younger wolves making up the rest of the pack for she knew there would be five. With wet eyes and dripping fangs, they leapt upon her, ripping into her flesh, paying no mind to her blood curdling cries. The pain was overwhelming as the world swam in hues of red and gold.
Sansa Stark woke up screaming.