Where Did Ghost Go? Who Was This Girl?

Brandon and the others had no idea how many wolves there were. Under cover of the blizzard, the pack was like the finest assassins, ready to spring silently from the darkness and tear out their throats at any moment.

They could only press their backs against the mountainside and keep the fire burning as fiercely as possible. Torches were useless in a blizzard like this; they would be snuffed out in an instant.

"Watch the fire! Raise your swords and shields!" the old hunter shouted himself hoarse.

The archers drew their daggers and hatchets. In weather like this, they could only fight at close quarters; their bows were completely useless.

The wolves' howls drifted unpredictably around them, almost as though they were deliberately trying to break their resolve. Brandon lowered his iron visor, shielding his younger brother, who huddled in the cave, with his large frame.

Ghost knew exactly how these fellow wolves would attack, and she knew they would kill her without hesitation after killing the humans. But she could not run. Even if only for Lyanna's sake, she had to protect Ned and Brandon.

The blizzard did nothing to hinder her senses or vision. With her powerful nose and the faint traces of scent, she could smell at least thirty wolves here.

The pack began testing their defenses!

The first wolf lunged at Brandon from above. Ghost intercepted it like lightning and clamped her jaws hard around its neck. Only then did the people around her snap out of their daze, shouting as they stabbed the wolf to death.

The foul, bloody taste in her mouth made Ghost gag. Still, she did not retreat a single step, growling a low warning at her fellow wolves in the snowy night.

Between life and death, she instinctively defended the humans, holding fast to her human heart.

Ned had drawn his own sword by then and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Watch Ghost! She knows which direction the wolves will attack from!"

"Stay together! Form a circle!"

Trembling like quails huddling for warmth, they gathered into a circle. In such terrible weather and terrain, defending themselves was their best option.

Ghost blocked almost every attack on her own, but in the chaos, two men were still dragged away in the wolves' jaws, while another tumbled into the ravine with a wolf locked in his arms.

She already had numerous bite wounds. Blood and snow froze together in clumps, and both her stamina and strength had dropped sharply.

Yet the wolves kept coming, attacking them relentlessly as though they never tired.

No one knew how much time had passed. Even several of the axes had chipped blades. Ghost had long since become lost in the slaughter, her body numb to pain. Ned had already reached his limit and half collapsed on the ground.

Only when a streak of golden light shone from the snowy peaks on the horizon did the pack retreat, leaving dozens of their dead behind.

Ghost felt her blood surge, a stifled feeling in her chest demanding release, and raised her head to the sky to proclaim her victory.

The survivors looked at one another, spat out mouthfuls of bloody foam, and burst into laughter. Brandon laughed hardest of all. Wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, he grabbed Ghost's head and rubbed it furiously.

"Ghost, you were amazing!"

Ghost truly had no strength left to break free. Her body went limp, and she simply dragged him down onto the ground with her.

When they counted their numbers, excluding the losses and those who had gone missing in the previous night's blizzard, just over twenty remained. Most of the badly injured were noncombatants. Brandon posted several warriors on the perimeter while the rest stayed where they were to rest and recover.

After resting for less than half a day, Ghost was lively again. Her wounds did not seem to have affected her much. Several old hunters sighed repeatedly in envy.

"No wonder they say House Stark has Wolf Blood. They can even tame a direwolf this powerful."

Ghost snorted disdainfully. Tamed, my ass. I was the one protecting Ned. Brandon could barely look after himself, you know? Come to think of it, although Ned has had training, his nerve is terrible. His legs went weak with fright last night.

Ned had mostly regained his composure. He gazed at Ghost with sparkling, adoring eyes and clung to her without letting go. Ghost grew impatient and pretended she was going to bite him. Only then did he laugh and release her.

"Ghost, I really do like you." The boy pressed his forehead against hers, his expression earnest and gentle.

Ah, to think this fresh young face would look like it had suffered through the bad old days in just a few years. She found that a little regrettable...

Could I do something? Change the fate of the Stark family?

"Lord Brandon, we probably don't have enough time left. Allowing for the return journey, we only have half a day to hunt."

Brandon looked grave. He had not expected such bad luck on this hunt: one snowstorm after another, and then a wolf attack. "What do you suggest?"

The old hunter winked. "Finding our own prey is too much trouble. I suggest we head back now, and then..."

Brandon froze, then suddenly caught his meaning. "You mean..." He made a chopping gesture. "Rob them?"

The old hunter nodded. "We're short on men now, and we don't have much hunting time left. This is the easiest way."

Brandon's expression turned a little strange. "Dustin, I never knew you had such interesting ideas."

After thinking it over carefully, he found it entirely workable. They only needed to set an ambush on the road back to Winter Town. If they robbed all the other houses, wouldn't they win?

Besides, with Brandon's personality, he was a hardcore PvP player. He was actually quite impatient with hunting. Fighting animals was nowhere near as fun as fighting people.

"Let's do it." Brandon looked excited. "We'll head back first and find a good place for an ambush."

Ned grew anxious when he heard this. "Brother, how can you do that? Isn't this a hunting competition?"

Brandon waved dismissively. "Hunting and fighting are both about getting stronger. What's the difference?"

"Time is short. It's settled. Take Ghost back to Winterfell first and recover from your injuries."

The rough men around them all loved stirring up trouble. When they heard that their targets had changed from animals to people, they roared their approval. Someone even asked whether they could strip the prisoners of their trousers, since he had a grudge against someone from a certain house.

Ghost was speechless. Strip their trousers off in forty below? How vicious. Are you trying to freeze their sausages?

In short... House Stark's hunting party turned around and hurried back. The weather stayed clear along the way, and soon they had secretly taken up their ambush positions at the chosen spot.

Meanwhile, Ned returned to Winterfell with Ghost in a huff. He thought Brandon's behavior was utterly shameless and planned to tell their father as soon as he got back.

Lyanna was shocked by Ghost's sorry state. After listening to Ned describe their encounter with the wolves with animated gestures, she felt terribly sorry for Ghost.

Although she did not understand relationships between animals, she thought Ghost surely could not be happy about hurting her own kind. She would make her more tasty food.

Ghost recuperated while Lyanna and Ned busied themselves looking after her. None of them paid attention to the rest of the Hundred-Person Hunt. With House Bolton's mainstay absent, Brandon Stark ultimately won a costly victory.

Apparently, the scene had been extremely lively, with dozens of houses, large and small, fighting in one great melee. Some fished in troubled waters, some used the occasion to settle private grudges, and others simply wanted to stir up trouble. They had turned the Hundred-Person Hunt into a hundred-person brawl. Brandon, that warmonger, specifically targeted people's faces and below the belt.

Fortunately, no one was hurt too badly. That was something to be thankful for. Lord Rickard's face went dark with anger in the end, while Brandon made plenty of new friends through fighting them.

After the Hundred-Person Hunt, the weather gradually warmed, and a major event approached.

Lord Rickard Stark, Duke of the North, would take his eldest son, Brandon, and eldest daughter, Lyanna, to visit House Tully in the Riverlands.

The visit was not only for his eldest son's betrothal ceremony with Catelyn Tully. Rickard also wanted Lyanna to meet Robert Baratheon, the future young lord of the stag house.

Anyone with eyes could see that Lord Rickard Stark intended to use this opportunity to strengthen the ties between the three great houses of the wolf, stag, and trout. What remained unknown was how King Aerys, seated on the Iron Throne in King's Landing, would react.

For the moment, Ghost had no time to concern herself with any of this.

Recently, she had begun to feel that something was wrong with her body. First, her bones and flesh ached all over. Then, every night, her body grew hot and her head spun, like the symptoms of a fever, leaving her unable to sit or stand at ease.

She did not know what was wrong and could only whine to attract Lyanna's attention. Lyanna soon summoned the maester to examine her. But the maester said Ghost was perfectly healthy and that her earlier wounds had healed very well.

Unable to find the cause, Lyanna grew frantic and called Ned over to discuss what to do.

Ned suggested asking the master of horse.

Summoned by a frantic Lyanna, Olf thought Ghost was at death's door. But once he arrived and took a look, considering Ghost's condition, he understood.

"Ghost must be growing up. She's going into heat."

Lyanna and Ned stared, dumbfounded, struggling to accept that Ghost was going into heat before she was even two years old.

So female wolves went into heat like dogs too??

"Then... then what do we do?" Ned stammered. "Ghost looks really uncomfortable."

Olf spread his hands. "She'll be fine in a few days. Or you could let her out into the wild to find a mate."

Lyanna rejected that without a second thought. "No! Ghost can't leave me."

Ned's face creased with concern. "How long will she be like this? Will it harm her health?"

"No. She'll be fine in a few days."

That evening, Lyanna's father called her away to discuss their visit to the Riverlands. Ned sneaked into Lyanna's room and carried away the white wolf, whose mind was somewhat muddled.

Ghost had felt so miserable these past few days that she had not even eaten. Her head was foggy, and she let out intermittent whimpers.

There was a hot spring in Winterfell fed by flowing underground water. Ned decided to carry her there for a soak. Perhaps it would make her feel a little better.

Since he had sneaked in, Ned had brought no one with him. He lowered the white wolf halfway into the hot spring, then went back for the supplies and towels Lyanna had prepared especially for Ghost.

The hot spring was underground. Bright moonlight could be seen falling across the water, its rippling reflections making Ghost seem to glow.

Ned looked up out the window and muttered, "Why is the moon so big tonight?"

An enormous full moon hung between the mountains. The dark shadows on its face were clearly visible, and moonlight bathed the earth, making the night as bright as day.

The moonlight fell on Ghost, its cool sensation bringing her a little relief. Yet she did not notice the bizarre changes taking place in her body.

The fur covering her body gradually disappeared;

Her hands and feet slowly changed shape and stretched out, while her long, thick tail shrank away;

Platinum-blond hair grew from her head, covering her curvaceous body;

Her coarse animal skin became luminous and white as jade, without even a single fine hair visible...

Ghost felt her body fully stretch out, and all her earlier discomfort vanished. She let out a sigh of relief.

Ned pushed the door open and walked in with his head lowered. "Ghost, I sneaked some of Lyanna's body lotion for you..."

The instant he saw the blond girl in the hot spring, Ned froze...

His mind felt like an erupting volcano, about to explode.

The blood surged through his entire body, rushing upward in one place and downward in another.

The wooden basin, brush, and bucket in his hands all clattered to the floor...

Where was Ghost? Where was my great big wolf?

Who was this unfamiliar blond girl?

Could Ghost... have turned into a human?