*A Rains of Castamere extension*
So fierce and proud, the young wolf howled as he glanced to the west.
With fangs all bare, the pack did dare the lions to the test.
No fear of loss and no fear of death; they marched towards the Rock.
With every win in every field, they dared to push their luck.
And so they howled, and so they barked, those wolves of Winterfell.
Their king is dead, he lost his head. He’s howling songs in hell.
They all lie dead. See how they bled. The wolves of winter fell.