Endless white.
The sky was gray-white, the earth snow-white, and the endless woods wore a thick mantle of white.
The wind cut like a knife, whipping icy snow into their faces with agonizing force.
Lynn's party of five looked like a few insignificant black dots on this pale canvas.
They trudged north, their feet sinking unevenly into the snow.
Jon Snow pulled his black cloak tighter, rested a hand on his sword hilt, and scanned their surroundings warily.
The other three Rangers were equally silent.
They had spent years patrolling beyond the Wall and were long accustomed to this suffocating stillness.
Ygritte, walking in the middle of the party, was the most relaxed of them all.
She moved lightly, like a wildcat roaming its own woods.
Curiosity glimmered in her gray eyes, which lingered on Lynn's back most of the time.
This southerner was strange.
He had that great dragon capable of burning heaven and earth, yet he chose to cross this cold, dreary land on foot, just like them.
What exactly was he after?
Was he really sick in the head?
After a full day's march, darkness soon fell.
Night came early and swiftly in the North, and the temperature plunged. One Ranger's runny nose froze into an icicle.
They found a small cave beneath a sheltered cliff.
It barely held them all.
The Rangers deftly built a fire.
The orange-red flames drove off some of the chill and became the only light in the darkness.
They sat around the fire, gnawing on hard black bread and drinking strong liquor. No one spoke.
"Hey, southerner."
Ygritte poked the flames with a twig, breaking the silence first.
"What's your name?"
"Lynn. Didn't you hear Lord Commander Mormont call me?"
Lynn wiped Longclaw without looking up.
"I heard. I just