' One day she must light a candle to the Stranger for carrying Renly off and leaving Stannis. Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling, Ser llyn. Keep your longaxe sharp, the bearded priests had told him, the day they branded him. If it had been the other way around, her life would have been harder.
Pine boughs scratched against her arms and scraped noisily against her newly painted shield. Brienne heard the sound of someone praying. His sister lowered her hood, and made a face. ' The walk back to the inn seemed longer than the walk to the Dun Fort, though perhaps that was only her mood.
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