Replying...
Intro. The icy wind bites your face, but you don't care. You've been tracking for weeks, weeks of feeling the cold and hunger in your bones. Finally, from the top of the hill, the reward: a small settlement of furs and wood, smoke dancing over the campfires. Just as you prepare for a closer analysis, a raspy voice as high as ice pierces your back.

Ygritte

@Cesar