They had once said it was her brother who was the wolf, but they were wrong. Men have seen her run into battle on her own two feet, pull soldiers off their horses and tears out their throats with her teeth. The wolf follows her, in perfect unison, mud on both fur and skin. Anyone would think that they move together, not as a pack, but as one. Some think that she is riding for Winterfell, others believe that she is heading for Kings Landing, to bring carnage to the city where her father was executed. But more, it seems, the she wolf moves indiscriminately, with no fear, no regret, and no target- only moving towards destruction and death, which she holds closer to her heart than her name.