and I, I pray that something picks me upand sets me down in your warm arms

and I, I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms



And so many others were missing. Where had the rest of them gone? Sansa wondered. Vainly, she searched for friendly faces. Not one of them would meet her eyes. It was as if she had become a ghost, dead before her time.



© T H E M E