Whenever he took a man's life, afterward he would seek the quiet of the godswood. What's that sound? Sansa heard it too, floating through the woods, a kind of wooden clattering, snack snack snack. Her uncle's voice was troubled. I thought we were speaking of justice.
The Tullys kept a godswood, as all the great houses did, but it was only a place to walk or read or lie in the sun. You shall need them. He should be expecting us. Bran is going to live! he whooped.
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