Winter is Coming, and Here’s How Dorkly Knows For Sure
SAVE ME, OLD NAN!
“Oh, my sweet summer child,” Dorkly said quietly, “What do you know of fear? Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north. Fear is for North Face jackets and Ugg boots and Christmas decorations that the storeclerks put out… before Halloween.” *OMINOUS THUNDERCRACK*
“So is this the sort of story that you like?”
But Bran had already died of fright. The end.