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    Half a year had passed since the birth of Sansa, Bran, and Arya Stark, and Winterfell was alive with celebration. The halls echoed with laughter and music, and the air was thick with the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine. Catelyn, though still recovering, held her head high, her pride evident as she cradled her newborns. “Three trueborn Starks,” she boasted to the gathered lords and ladies, her voice carrying a sharp edge. “Let Ned’s whore try to match that.”


    Meanwhile, in a smaller, quieter room far from the festivities, Jon and Mary sat together. The noise of the celebration was distant, but the tension in the air was palpable. Mary’s tail flicked restlessly behind her, her blue eyes darting to the door. She growled softly, her tiny hands gripping the edge of the bed as if ready to bolt. Jon, ever calm, watched her with quiet concern, his dark eyes thoughtful.


    Shadow appeared then, his smoky form slipping through the cracks of the door. His glowing eyes met Mary’s, and she let out a soft hum, her tail wagging faster. Shadow moved to the door, his form solidifying just enough to manipulate the lock. With a soft click, the door swung open, and Mary was off like a shot, her tiny feet carrying her into the snowy courtyard.


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    Jon hesitated for a moment, then followed, his breath visible in the cold night air. Shadow trailed behind them, his presence a comforting weight at the edge of their awareness.


    The courtyard was blanketed in snow, the world silent and still under the pale light of the moon. Mary let out a triumphant yell, her tail wagging furiously as she plunged into the snow. She scooped up a handful and hurled it at Jon, her growls turning into sharp laughter.


    Jon blinked, snow dripping from his face, then a rare smile broke through his usual calm. He bent down, gathering his own snowball, and the fight began.


    Shadow watched from the shadows, his glowing eyes soft with something akin to affection. The children darted through the snow, their laughter echoing through the quiet night. Mary’s tail wagged wildly as she tackled Jon into a snowdrift, her growls mingling with his quiet chuckles.


    For a moment, the world was simple—just two children and their shadow, playing in the snow under the watchful gaze of the moon.