Description
The further Bran wanders into the depths of the Leywood, the more he is struck with flashes of déjà vu. Vast trees veined in golden amber, the huge, wary eyes of hulking creatures... to the people around him these sights would be strange and unsettling, yet to Bran they feel comfortingly familiar. When he comes across a broken stone pillar, long overgrown with moss and ivy, a memory surfaces so vividly it stops him in his tracks. He has stood in this very position before. A person dressed in rich ivory robes had been talking to him, eloquent and insistent, while he shook his head continuously. No, he had said very firmly. I won’t go back. And he had turned around, heedless of their crestfallen expression, and walked back to the place that actually felt like home.
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