Bran devoured the offering appreciatively, sharp teeth easily piercing the hare’s soft flesh. He dimly remembered back in Winterefell his mother had always been telling him to mind his table manners, and he’d always made sure to eat even more messily when she wasn’t looking, egged on by Arya of course. The memory almost made him smile, but he had forgotten about it moments later. Summer cared more about his meal than memories that he’d never lived through, and never dwelled on them for long.
He started to run again, again with no destination in mind. The hare’s blood was even brighter red against the fresh white snow, he noticed, providing a sharp contrast. The forest was full of contrast, green against blue against the palest of white. Bran wished he could run forever, but he could feel himself waking up no matter how much he resisted. No matter how free he’d felt as summer, he’d be Bran the broken once again before long.
His eyes opened slowly, taking a few moments to adjust to his new surroundings with a yawn. This was always the hardest part, coming back, realising that yes, he still couldn’t walk; yes, all of that really happened.
Bran smiled softly at Meera, feeling her lips on his forehead. The gesture reminded him a bit of how Sansa would say goodnight sometimes — he tried not to think of that. He watched her skin the hare attentively, wrapping the furs tighter around him. “Good morning, Meera,” he said with a small smile.
"Good morning, prince Bran. - she smiled back, getting ready to cook her small prey. - How are things going with the Children? You were already asleep when they took you back yesterday." she asked, but couldnt mask her concern.
Despite everything, despite Jojen’s green dreams, despite Bran’s, despite their whole journey North of the Wall, she couldn’t really bring herself to trust the Children of the Forest.
Something didn’t felt right, and she was worried for Bran, but also for Hodor and her brother.
They used Jojen to get Bran here. Now that they have him, they don’t need us anymore… and what if they want to keep Bran down there, just like the other warg?
She frowned slightly, and looked up at the wolf-boy. “Did you learn something useful?”
✉’; ‘♥’ (for Jojen, Bran, Myr, Dany) ;‘♡’ ; HC words: blue, pine, canoe. Drabble words: boat, build, together, alone; ‘♪’ ‘Ω Crush? Confess? Fetish? ☹ "Osha has passed away." "Howland has passed away". ★ ☆♛✖ "Myr or Osha?"
‘✉’ for an unsent letter from my character to yours.
Dear Jojen, We miss you here in Winter Fell… and you know i can’t stop worry unlessn unless i can keep an eye on you…
‘♥’ and a name, and I’ll kiss them.
Meera held him in her arms, waiting for the seizures to pass. When her brother’s body finally relaxed she brushed back some sweaty locks from his face, and kissed his forehead. “Hush, Jojen. The fever will pass. Justr rest.” she said, squeezing him slightly, though she didn’t know if she was trying to reassure him, or herself.
The girl smiled and leaned forward, kissing Bran’s cheek. “Just tell him. - she said, covering his hand with her - I’m sure he feels the same.”
"So… it’s like… You tilt your head to the side and open your mouth a little, right?" Meera frowned, before pressing their lips together.
She pulled back after two seconds straight, looking at the younger girl with a shocked smile. “Whoa! Was that your tongue?!”
Meera moved her wife’s silver locks on one side of her neck, and hugged her from behind. “How was your day?” she asked, placing a kiss on her shoulder.
‘♡’ and my character(s) will cuddle yours!
"Move." Meera said, nudging her brother with her foot. The boy shifted slightly under the furs, making some space for her. His sister snuggled close to him. "Now sleep." she ordered once again, breathing in what little scent of home was still stuck on Jojen’s hair.
a word and I’ll write a headcanon based on it.
Whenever she feels blue, Meera would just take her knife and go carve some woods in some hidden place in the swamp. Her father was the only one who could always found her.
They took some some snow and pine needles and boiled it together. They did it every night and drank it like tea before trying to sleep a little bit. It made them feel better, Meera thought. Something normal in world gone crazy.
Paddling a canoe came natural to most inhabitants of the bog. The Reeds were no different, even they’re mother could do that.
‘♪’ and I’ll put my playlist on shuffle to tell you our song.
Amy McDonald - Where you gonna sleep tonight
‘Ω’ and I’ll tell you what my character(s) thinks of yours.
Meera smiled and hugged him once more. “You’re my brother and my bestfriend, you know that, don’t you. - she told him - Now stop fussing and go get the boy!”
prompts or drabble ideas!
Meera and Jojen looked up at the boat. The ship, really. It was uge and painted on the side. Its figurehead was maid with naked breasts and green hair. The Merman’s Daughter, it was called.
As they climbed climbed the footbridge to get on board, the Reeds didn’t know the same boat would later carry green dye, for Lord Manderly’s brave niece.
She had built that bow with her own hands. Each of its arrows too. Her father, Howland Reed, had taught her how, and had been proud of his little huntress the first time she killed a prey with it.
Now her bow could make the difference between life and death for the three of them.
Their march was slow in the thick fresh snow. Coldhands was leading them, but Meera didn’t trusted him. He was dead, and she had told so to the boys, but Jojen insisted the Three-eyed-crow was the one who sent him.
She didn’t like him anyway, but that was not the time to question her brother’s judgement. Now more than ever, they needed to stick together.
Meera never felt alone while hunting. It was her, and her prey, and everything around her. It was the trees, the water and the snow. It was her heart, and the arrow, and the spear.
How could she feel alone, while everything was holding its breath?
‘Crush?’ for any romantic interest my character(s) might have for someone.
"Yeah, allright… - she blushed fiercely, glaring at Jojen - Osha’s kinda hot. At least, when she stop complaing about how i do stuff.
‘Confess?’ and my character(s) will have to confess something to yours. (whether it be feelings, opinions, a secret — whatever; feel free to specify)
"I never told you that, - Meera sighed, bumping her shoulder with her brother’s - but i’m actually glad i don’t have to deal with those green dreams. It sounds scary…"
‘Fetish?’ for one thing that is sexually appealing to my character(s).
Uhm… Biting? Could totally see Meera biting and scratching >.>
☹ for a turn-off
She has zero tollerance for abuses. Being it mental, or phisical.
“[name]…has passed away” for my character’(s’) reaction.
"Osha has passed away."
Meera stared at her brother as she felt her eyes getting moist. She sniffed and wiped the tears away. “What about Rickon? - she asked, swallowing hard. Crying will have to wait. - Did you see him too in your dreams?”
"Howland has passed away"
The young huntress frozed. “What? How? - her voice cracked painfully, disbelief quickly turning in grief - …but he was fine when we left! Tell them, Jojen! He can’t be dead, he’s our father!”
★ for an IC fact, or ☆ for an OOC fact
Meera sometimes feels lonely. Jojen and Bran being all lovey-dovey don’t exactly help.
// The mun met a girl last night. Let’s just say she was nice, and single, and wanted to take me out. Yeah, i’m bragging about it.
Give my character a difficult decision: "Myr or Osha?"
Meera bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. She wished she could have spent more time with Osha… but Cella was her bestfriend, maybe even more than that. “Cella.” she said, but wasn’t happy to have to make this choice.
♛ and I’ll summarize our muses’ relationship with a gif.
✖ and I will give you a fear that my character has in dealing with yours
Jojen always seems to have everything figured out already. That’s why Meera sometimes feel unsure of what she want (she actually doesn’t have a clue), and prefers to follow him - or Bran - and, rather than try finding her own path.he
It's the wrong M!A: COUGH: Muse will be ill for 14 Hours
Screw this. Meera coughed, and it didn’t sound nice. I can’t be ill right now!
Her cheeks felt hot, and she was in a bad mood. Tired and annoyed with her own body for this outrageous betrayal.
She sniffed and pouted. No way i’m ill!
//ok, i’m laughing so hard XD jojo, is that you?
Cough Syrup: (tw) Muse becomes extremely depressed and is not in a good mindset and begins to have thoughts of suicide. (Anon decides duration)
Meera sighed and kept playing with her hunting knife. She felt powerless, why she was even trying so hard? It was useless. She was useless…
//Dear nonnie, i’d like a duration.
Not safe for work can mean so many things…
‘✉’ for an unsent letter from my character to yours.
Dear Lady Jophiel,
My brother writes me he dreamed about you, and i’m not sure how to feel about it. His green dreams always come true, but they are tricky to understand.
Is everything allright?
Please be carefull, and let me know if i can help you with something,
‘♡’ and my character(s) will cuddle yours!
Meera walked barefoot down the corridor, bashful as always, as she sneaked inside their guest’s bedroom.
Greywater Watch could be scary for those who weren’t used to its many creaks and little noises. The mist wasn’t helping either.
The wooden walls weren’t that thick in that area of the fortress, and the young huntress could hear lady Jophiel moving around from her own room, probably having trouble sleeping.
The girl knocked gently and let herself in without waiting for an answer.
"It’s quite rare for us to have a visitor. - she said to the older woman with an open smile, closing the door behind her, and leaning against it with her shoulders. - Is it allright if stay a little bit? I’d like to hear story from your lands."
As soon as the lady gave a gracious nod, Meera climbed with her in bed, snuggling closer and ready to listen.