The camp erupted into chaos in an instant, shattering the silence Beyond the Wall.
Some of the Free Folk turned and fled at the terrifying sight. Panic-stricken, they plunged into the pine woods without looking back, leaving only a jumble of footprints in the snow.
Others, who had never been particularly bright, still dared to raise their bows at Viserys and King Ghidorah. Yet for some reason, their hands shook so badly that they could not draw their bowstrings. The longbows trembled in their grip, as though they might slip free at any moment.
The remaining elderly, women, and children huddled together, clutching their little ones behind collapsed hide tents. Their faces were deathly pale, their eyes filled with despair and fear.
The children were still sobbing quietly, but their mothers clamped hands over their mouths, terrified of attracting the three-headed dragon's attention.
Some of the elderly murmured prayers to the Old Gods, their fingers clutching their ragged clothes as they tried to find a shred of comfort amid this sudden catastrophe.
King Ghidorah did not remain in the air. After all, flying so low was an unstoppable natural disaster for the Free Folk camp below. She soon found an open patch in the camp and landed.
When King Ghidorah's claws settled fully onto the frozen earth, a dull thud rang out, and the ground around the entire camp trembled slightly.
The impact also shook the snow from the pines. It drifted down like another light snowfall, settling on the heads and shoulders of the Free Folk hiding nearby and making the weather Beyond the Wall seem even colder.
King Ghidorah's three heads turned slightly, her six molten-gold eyes surveying the now-ruined camp. There was not a trace of sympathy or pity in them. She regarded the Free Folk as