❝ Sometimes in the deep of night, the howling of wolves could be heard. And although no one ever lingered long enough to be certain, the bull always knew who they howled for.
The Tree of Ravens
“…He heard the dark red leaves of the weirwood rustling, whispering to one another in a tongue he did not know. The starlight itself seemed to stir, and all around them the trees groaned and creaked. Sam Tarly turned the color of curdled milk, and his eyes went wide as plates. Ravens! They were in the weirwood, hundreds of them, thousands, perched on the bone-white branches, peering between the leaves. He saw their beaks open as they screamed, saw them spread their black wings… “
— Samwell Tarly; A Storm of Swords