Luwin raised his voice. "A genuine ruler would welcome...

" "Ahoooooo," Bran cried, louder. "OOOO-OOOO-OOOO." The maester surrendered. "As you'll , child." With a look that was part grief and part appal, he cleared out the bedchamber. Once, howling misplaced its savor once Bran was alone. After a time, he calmed. I did welcome them, he told himself, angry. I was the ruler in Winterfell, a true master. He can’t say I wasn’t. When the Walders had arrived from the Twins, it had been Rickon who needed them gone. A child of four, he had screamed that he needed his mother and father and Robb, not these strangers. It had been up to Bran to relieve him and offer the Freys a welcome. He had offered them meat and mead and a seat by the fire, and indeed, Maester Luwin had said a while later that he’d done well. Only that it had been a while since the game. The diversion was played with a log, a staff, a body of water, and a great deal of shouting. Walder and Walder assured Bran that the water was vital. You can use a board or even a set.