The red-pelted, ten-tailed ice Elemental of the North approached the Drekistone borders, nerves spiking. Sansa’s mind was whirling. She knew she wanted to be with Ghost . . . but was it really best for Sansa to live in Drekistone, which held those who would have killed her had she not managed to escape? Ghost had assured Sansa everything would be fine, yet, she couldn’t trust the wolves of Drekistone, especially when a Targaryen was among them. A Targaryen - but she wasn’t just a Targaryen, was she? She was Sansa’s goodsister, the mother of Sansa’s three nephews, apparently the love of Ghost’s life. The daughter of the Mad King . . .
Before she could change her mind, Sansa howled for Ghost, as well as King Balerion. She needed to commit to this, to having a pack. She would miss Prim. She wished they could have stayed together . . . yet each of them was finding family. Plus, the spunky Felis-Flora-Elemental had no intention of ever going back to Drekistone, not if it meant her life.

“The worst ones always come back.”