The Death of Hodor

The brown Direwolf moved close to the ground, its ears perked up, precisely catching every sound, as sensitive as a weather vane.

Suddenly, the Direwolf heard a familiar voice. He rushed toward the sound, leaving a trail of swirling snowflakes behind him.

The Direwolf slowly peeked out from behind a fallen sentinel tree and saw a group of Iron Islands soldiers barking like the Hound.

"Mrs. Catelyn! We mean no harm."

"Stark, we are allies!"

Snap -

One of them raised his whip high and lashed it hard against the pale, aged body on the carriage.

The Direwolf saw the old scholar, shirtless and bound to the carriage, on the verge of death. The Direwolf's green eyes blazed with a fury capable of burning down an entire forest.

His long, wolf-like jaws parted, revealing gleaming white teeth, as if he wanted to tear those shameless villains to shreds.

The Direwolf silently circled around to the back of the group of thugs. It picked out one of the shorter-legged creatures, the slowest of them, who had already fallen quite a distance behind the others.

It pressed its body close to the ground, with its limbs on the ground, poised to pounce.

In a flash, the Direwolf's body transformed into a gray gust of wind. Just as the villains were still trying to lure the Stark out with Luwin, the Direwolf pounced on its target. Its sharp white fangs pierced its throat, and warm, scarlet blood burst open in its mouth, like biting into a large tomato.

"Where did this beast come from!"

"It's Stark wolf!"

Having landed a successful blow, the Direwolf didn't linger and quickly fled. The creature whose throat had been bitten could only clutch its neck in agony and cry for help from its companions.

However, his companions could only give him a quick death in this situation.

The Direwolf felt a great sense of satisfaction listening to the thugs' angry curses and threats, but the old scholar Luwin still couldn't be rescued.

As it darted and weaved through the Wolfswood, it suddenly spotted a crow the size of an owl.

The crow stared intently at the Direwolf, as if to say, "I've found you!"

Bran quickly spurred the Direwolf to run in another direction, while simultaneously withdrawing his consciousness from the Direwolf's body. He looked around and saw that he was being carried on Hodor's back because of his disability, with Myrcella following closely behind. Since they had left Winterfell through a secret passage, there was no time to prepare a carriage, and everyone had to travel on foot.

Catelyn carried little Lyanna, followed by little Rickon; Jeyne carried little Eddard, with Sansa and Jeyne beside them; Arya led the way with Kajo.

Arya's steps were light and swift, even surpassing those of the most physically strong veterans.

In addition, they were protected by four or five guards at the front and back, who escorted them as they fled north.

The group crunched through the snow, the sound of it constantly filling their ears. The snow undoubtedly slowed their pace and gave them away.

Bran looked at his fleeing group and realized a problem—they were too big a target and had to disperse.

So he called out to Catelyn, "Mother! Mother!"

"What's wrong?" Catelyn, holding her granddaughter and wading through the snow, turned to look at her most beloved son.

"We should run separately!"

"No!" Catelyn rejected her son's suggestion without hesitation.

"But Mother, those people are about to catch up! We must split up and run."

"I said no!" Catelyn said sternly. After what happened in King's Landing's Landing, she had made up her mind not to let any child out of her sight.

Jeyne didn't say anything about Catelyn's insistence; she just didn't know why Bran would suddenly make this request.

Rickon was too young to leave his mother, while Arya and Sansa were relatively indifferent.

Seeing Catelyn's resolute attitude, Bran frowned and said, "Mother, have you ever considered that if Jon hadn't left Harrenhal, would we be where we are today?"

Catelyn paused, and little Lyanna in her arms suddenly began to cry.

She thought of the nightmare she had not long ago. If she thought about it carefully, if Jon hadn't persuaded Old Walder, the North army would probably have been trapped at the Twins.

Going back further, if Jon hadn't turned the tide in King's Landing, how terrible would the fate of the North and the Riverlands have been?

But Catelyn was extremely unwilling to be separated from her children.

"Mother, let's split up and run," Jeyne said. "Robb told me that the lone wolf dies, the pack lives, but as long as our hearts are together, we are not lone wolves!"

Looking at the young faces before her, Catelyn finally made up her mind.

But deciding who to be with and who not to be with left her in a dilemma. In the end, it was Bran who gave her the answer.

Kajo protects Catelyn, Jeyne, Rickon, and their two children.

Bran, Sansa, Arya, and Hodor were escorted by three guards.

Soon, the group was split in two. Catelyn turned her head almost every three steps until Bran and the others disappeared among the dense, pale tree trunks.

Bran was also observing his surroundings when he suddenly saw a scene that sent chills down his spine—several crows with dark red eyes were perched on the tree trunks around him.

The Raven he saw in the Summer wasn't just one; its owner could control many at the same time!

This means that even though they had separated and run away, they still couldn't escape that person's eyes.

Bran frowned, racking his brains for a way to escape, when suddenly Sansa tripped and fell due to exhaustion.

After Myrcella helped her up, her maroon hair was covered with snowflakes.

In the past, Sansa would have complained quite a bit, but after her experience of being trapped in King's Landing, she had matured a lot. She simply brushed the snow off her clothes and continued on her way.

The only thing that bothered her was that Sansa noticed Myrcella seemed to be the second fastest among them, after Arya.

Moreover, Myrcella also wore a short sword at her waist, and despite having practiced for less time, she seemed to have more talent than I did.

The group continued on their way, but the crows behind them lingered relentlessly.

He transferred his consciousness back into the Direwolf Summer's body and soon felt the ground tremor.

Bran controlled Summer's body and rushed towards the direction from which the sound of hooves came. Sure enough, he saw Euron, wearing an eyepatch and riding a horse, and a group of soldiers chasing after them in the direction they had fled.

"His target is me!"

Realizing this, Bran no longer hesitated. He withdrew his consciousness and spoke directly to Sansa and Arya, "Let's split up!"

Without waiting for their agreement, he immediately transferred his consciousness into Hodor's body.

Hodor was tall and strong, and he quickly carried Bran, leaving the three girls and guards behind.

"Bran!" Arya called out, wanting to chase after him, but then she hesitated, remembering that Sansa and Myrcella needed her protection.

"What happened to Bran?" Sansa was also very puzzled. When she left Winterfell for King's Landing, Bran was still in a coma. After a long and difficult journey back, her lively and active younger brother became a cripple who could only be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

Naturally, Bran's personality also underwent a significant change.

Over the past six months, she had grown accustomed to it, but today Bran acted with a maturity beyond his years, unlike an eight or nine-year-old child.

"I'm going to find him." Myrcella seemed to have made up her mind, and hurried in the direction Bran had left.

Bran discovers that controlling the Direwolf's body in the Summer feels different from controlling Hodor's body.

Once his soul entered Summer's body, Summer's soul would obediently curl up in a corner.

Hodor was completely different. Although Hodor also relinquished control of his body, he appeared terrified, as if he were hiding there trembling.

Bran didn't know why he had frightened Euron so much, but now he needed this healthy and strong body to distract Euron.

He turned his back and looked back at the crows behind him. The crows would deliberately fly in front of him, and then continue flying forward after he had run a certain distance, just like a hunter toying with his prey.

Bran knew he couldn't escape, so he planned to sacrifice himself to buy his family more time to run away.

Soon, the sound of hooves grew closer, and Euron appeared from the woods on horseback, accompanied by his mute sailor.

These horses were all from Winterfell, and Bran, who had recently become obsessed with animal taming, naturally recognized them all.

Euron surrounded Bran, with the riders around him and the ravens overhead, like a giant net.

"There are far too many people who possess this power," Euron, looking into Hodor's eyes. He knew that Bran's soul was currently inside Hodor's body.

He spurred his horse forward, drew his sword from his waist, and said, "You'd better go back to your disgusting, broken body!"

Euron thrust his sword into Hodor's chest, and Bran felt his strength rapidly draining from his body, a terrifying chill seeping into him through the blade.

Bran almost reflexively tried to transfer his soul back to his body, but now he wanted to save Hodor.

He threw himself down, clutching his wounds, and tried to break free, but another rider on horseback thrust a spear into his body.

With a soft thud, Bran could no longer control the body shrouded in death, and his soul returned uncontrollably to his own body.

A mute puppet placed Bran on his horse, and just as Euron was about to continue his pursuit of the other Stark, a scene suddenly appeared before his eyes—his entire fleet had been frozen in that bay overnight.

A fleet with a white wolf's head painted on its sail was blocking the way.