[It doesn’t surprise Jon that Tormund declined to participate in the fox weddings, and it was probably for the best: he is not sure that his friend would have been able to even pretend to take them seriously. Or he might have taken them too seriously, drinking heartily to an occasion that was not joyous.
When things went wrong, that’s when he would have been of use. And they are still wrong, in a way that they both understand, so the Wildling’s aid is most welcome. They walk through the woods now.]
This place, this world… it’s not like home.
[There is a flash of red and white through the trees, much too big to be fox. Jon peers at it, frowning, before finishing his thought.]
Or might be that it is. Do you see that?
[“That” is a weirwood.
His heart aches to see it, and he starts towards it, bow and arrow held in his hand, then slows to be sure that Tormund is with him.]
b hey who wants an heart tree *and* a fox altar?
When things went wrong, that’s when he would have been of use. And they are still wrong, in a way that they both understand, so the Wildling’s aid is most welcome. They walk through the woods now.]
This place, this world… it’s not like home.
[There is a flash of red and white through the trees, much too big to be fox. Jon peers at it, frowning, before finishing his thought.]
Or might be that it is. Do you see that?
[“That” is a weirwood.
His heart aches to see it, and he starts towards it, bow and arrow held in his hand, then slows to be sure that Tormund is with him.]