Arya
Wrestling with something three times your size isn't one of the things I fantasized about.
It presses my hands down with its paws, snapping my makeshift spear in two halves.
The hunter doesn't even attempt to help me - he just sits there watching with a mouthful of meat.
I force myself to stare into the face of my oppressor - a Direwolf.
It lowers its snout to my face, sniffing me thoroughly.
I hold my breath, afraid to move even an inch.
Then, it growls, baring its teeth predatorily.
"Help." A strangled plea erupts from my lumpy throat.
Then, it steps away from me, close enough to still attack but far enough that it no longer poses an immediate threat.
It looks at the man at the fire.
Immediately, he falls on his knees, bowing with his face to the floor.
I watch the proceedings, wondering if he is one of the worshippers he mentioned.
The wolf turns back to me, inching a large paw forward.
I scuttle backward, gauging my chances at escape.
