Waterfall

                                    

                                          
It was a cold night. My snow-stained cloak blended me in with the darkness. It reminded me of the cell I was I was in while in kings landing. 
                          
I didn't sleep much, or really any at all. I wanted to stop. Lay down and never wake up. I'll never know what kept me going through all of it.
                          
In the morning I went on a hunt. I remember when I would go on hunts with Robb. He was always better than me. Poor Rob. I should've been there with him. Oh if I would've known that would've been the last time I would ever see him.
                          
 I heard a familiar sound. It was a waterfall. I followed the sound and came across a large waterfall feeding into a river. The river gave me good memories. I remember my time with Dany and the first time I rode a dragon. 
                          
I wonder if ill ever see Drogon again. Maybe hell kill me as at first sight, but if so why didn't he just kill me the day I did it? Maybe he should have. Put an end to my suffering. Let me die with no witch to bring me back.
                          
On my way back I found a small cabin about 2 miles west of our camp. Inside of the cabin I found  a Manon the floor. He was dead. He had stab wounds layered across his body. 
                          
It was a curious sight, almost like the wounds of the men killed by whites. I told myself it couldn't not be. They were destroyed, and will never be back again, but deep inside I had a strange feeling, a feeling of uneasiness. 
                          
I returned back to camp and entered my tent. It was my home, for now, but it didn't feel like home. Winterfell is my home, and I'll never return. 
                          
"I've killed more men then you've seen." It was Tormund. He was talking to one of the men in our group, his name is Howland I believe. Once again another one of Tormunds lies. 
                          
The sound of a punch came from outside the tent. I quickly stepped outside and saw Tormund looking over the poor man. Tormund is a good lad, but he knows nothing but violence. He has been raised to fight. He'll never be able to pull himself from I fight.
                          
"Tormund." I yelled, "What is the meaning." He looked up with a disgusted face.
                          
"He spit at my feet and called me a cunt." Tormund looked back to the man. I could see madness in his face. He was going to strike the man again. 
                          
I pulled Tormund back and shaved him away. "Piss off." He said. The hurt man walked away, so Tormund did the same.
                          
I returned to my tent and played down. Gods I was bored. I decided I would take a hunt.