"It's an opportunity they’re calling for," pronounced Farlen, who was kennelmaster and had no more affection for the direwolves than his dogs did.

They don’t like being walled up, and who’s to fault them? "Wild things belong within the wild, not in a castle. "They need to hunt," concurred Gage, the cook, as he hurled 3D shapes of suet into an incredible pot of stew. "A wolf smells better than any man. Like as not, they’ve caught the fragrance of prey. " Maester Luwin did not think so.

"Wolves regularly yell at the moon. These are crying at the comet. See how shining it is, Bran? Perchance they think it is the moon. " When Bran rehashed that to Osha, she giggled out loud. "Your wolves have more sense than your maester," the wildling lady said. "They know truths the dark man has forgotten." The way she said it made him shudder, and when he inquired what the comet implied, she replied, "Blood and fire, boy, and nothing sweet." Bran inquired Septon Chayle about the comet while they were sorting through a few scrolls grabbed from the library.