Another dream.
I see her. Every time.
She strides soundlessly through the forest in a green tunic that matches the color of her eyes. Her eyes were the same hue as mine, moss green. Moss green, the sign of the ability to have greendreams.
I see her. Every time.
I watched silently from behind a tree as Bran Stark raised his bow, aiming for the three-eyed crow he so desperately wanted to hit. Of course, the bird flew out of the way. Bran lowered his bow, sighing dejectedly. The girl walked over and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Should I talk to them? I have never approached them or said a word before. On impulse, I walked forward. Immediately, the girl jumped in front of Bran protectively, shielding him.
I initiated the conversation, "You can't kill the raven, you know. You're the raven."
At that moment, the dream shattered.
Who was she?