Mine is the North…Snow

The snow was blazing across a plain where a figure was standing, nearby was a forest that hid multiple scorpions that had just fired not even 5 minutes previously.

The black clothed figure made his way across the grounds, he walked past the warm corpse of a freshly killed dragon and into the nearby thick forest.

He ignored the dragon blood hissing as it melted the snow and continued his way through the thickly wooded area, he stepped over the thick roots and whistled sharply.

'Growing up, the court and my family made sure I knew I wasn't a Targaryen or a Stark, no matter how much blood I shared with them. But where their names rule over The North and Westeros mine is the North…Snow'

As he finished his thought a giant wolf came bounding through the dark woods, it pressed its warm black head against his shoulder. The man patted the wolf before continuing his way through the forest.

He looked back to the plain and stared at the dragon's corpse with his icy blue eyes.