Snow crunched beneath Jon Snow's boots as he rode through the endless white expanse. The Wall, once a towering reminder of duty, had long vanished behind him. He had passed the lands he once patrolled, past Craster's Keep, past the ruins where he had fought and bled. Now, only the unknown stretched before him.
Ghost padded beside him, his white fur blending into the landscape. The direwolf was the only familiar presence left in Jon's world. The Free Folk, who had accepted him as one of their own, rode behind him in loose groups. Tormund Giantsbane led the vanguard, laughing even as the cold wind howled around them.
Jon pulled his cloak tighter. It had been weeks since they had left Castle Black, traveling beyond the known lands of the North. Most of the Free Folk had scattered, finding their own paths to build new homes. But Jon had kept moving. He had no home to return to.
As night fell, they made camp in the ruins of an ancient fort—one of the countless nameless places lost beyond the Wall. A fire crackled in the center, casting flickering shadows against broken stone walls. Jon sat apart from the others, staring into the flames.
Tormund dropped beside him with a grunt. "Still brooding?" he asked, biting into a hunk of dried meat.
Jon exhaled, his breath a mist in the frigid air. "Just thinking."
"You do that too much." Tormund smirked, tossing a piece of meat to Ghost. The direwolf snapped it up without hesitation. "You should drink more, fight more. Find yourself a woman to warm your furs."
Jon shook his head. That part of his life felt distant, like something belonging to someone else. He had given up on dreams of family, of love. The world had stripped those from him, leaving only duty—and even that had been taken when he was sent beyond the Wall.
A sudden gust of wind carried a strange sound—almost like a whisper. Jon stiffened, his hand drifting toward the hilt of Longclaw. Ghost lifted his head, ears twitching.
Tormund noticed as well. "What is it?"
Jon rose to his feet, scanning the darkness beyond the fire's glow. The wind howled again, but this time, Jon could swear he heard something beneath it—a distant rumble, deep and ancient.
He stepped forward, drawn toward the sound. Ghost followed, his eyes glowing in the dark. The others watched him go but did not follow.
Jon moved carefully, stepping past broken stone and frozen earth. The whispering wind grew stronger. Then, suddenly, the ground gave way beneath him.
With a sharp gasp, he fell, tumbling into the cold, dark abyss below.