NO I DON’T WANT YOUR FEELINGS DON’T DO THIS TO ME
I CAN’T HANDLE THE FEELINGS.
DON’T MAKE ME HURT WITH YOU
I belong with my brother
fighting for a new world that would rise up like the sun
“Further on she came upon a feast of corpses. Savagely slaughtered, the feasters lay strewn across overturned chairs and hacked trestle tables, asprawl in pools of congealing blood. Some had lost limbs, even heads. Severed hands clutched bloody cups, wooden spoons, roast fowl, heels of bread. In a throne above them sat a dead man with the head of a wolf. He wore an iron crown and held a leg of lamb in one hand as a king might hold a sceptre, and his eyes followed Dany with mute appeal.”
Take that Jeep and get the hell out of here, alright?