A black torrent flowed slowly across the endless white plain.
The air reeked of livestock dung, pungent and unmistakably real.
Lynn rode on Winter's broad back.
Arya held tightly around his waist, her initial excitement having settled into quiet.
She watched the Wildling formations below, as orderly as a chessboard, and the ranks of legendary Giants and Mammoths stretching to the horizon.
Suddenly, a scout came galloping up on a pony, his face flushed with excitement.
"Two riders to the north, coming toward us!"
Tormund rode a tall warhorse.
Beneath his hulking frame, the horse looked somewhat ridiculous.
He spat into the snow.
"Spies? I'll go break their legs!"
Ygritte, always at Lynn's side, had already nocked an arrow.
Lynn narrowed his eyes.
The two figures were still distant black specks, but the way they rode looked familiar.
"Wait. They're friends."
As they drew closer, Arya cried out in surprise.
"Jon! It's Jon!"
The rider was none other than Jon Snow.
The bitter wind had chapped his handsome face, and snowflakes covered his black curls.
Beside him rode another man with the same distinctive Stark features, taller and leaner.
Benjen Stark.
The First Ranger of the Night's Watch.
They reined in before the enormous dragon, their mounts snorting uneasily.
Benjen's eyes widened as he stared in awe at the sheer scale of the army.
He had seen Winter before, so his gaze lingered instead on the Frost Giant, which resembled a moving iceberg.
Jon dismounted, his movements stiff with cold and exhaustion.
"Lynn. Arya."
"Jon!"
Arya climbed down from the dragon's back and, heedless of the knee-deep snow, was about to throw herself into her brother's arms.
But remembering that she was now Lynn's wife, she forced herself to stop.
"What are you doing here?"
Lynn spoke.
"Has the Wall