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[ the fires burn against the night.
Melisandre hears the crush of snow around her, as the straggle of Watch men and Baratheon men alike leave the circle to return to their duties. Hers, however, are here — so she does not move.
One man, with pretensions to gallantry, lingers behind to offer her a cloak against the chill of the coming darkness. She sends him on his way with a shake of her head and a not-quite mocking smile, then she turns back into the light of the flames.
Seeking, searching, asking.
It has always been so, every dusk. ]
Melisandre hears the crush of snow around her, as the straggle of Watch men and Baratheon men alike leave the circle to return to their duties. Hers, however, are here — so she does not move.
One man, with pretensions to gallantry, lingers behind to offer her a cloak against the chill of the coming darkness. She sends him on his way with a shake of her head and a not-quite mocking smile, then she turns back into the light of the flames.
Seeking, searching, asking.
It has always been so, every dusk. ]
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