No one moved.
The clearing held its breath.
The figure stepped fully into view.
Cloaked.
Hooded.
Still as the trees themselves.
Corvyn's hand rested on Nightfeather.
Not drawn.
Not yet.
Ser Halric shifted slightly beside him.
"That's not Bolton," he muttered.
"No," Corvyn said quietly.
The stranger did not reach for a weapon.
Did not speak.
Only watched.
A long moment passed.
Then—
"You're far from your walls, Lord of Ravens."
The voice was calm.
Cold.
Unfamiliar.
Corvyn's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You know who I am."
The figure tilted their head.
"I know enough."
Halric stepped forward half a pace.
"And who are you?"
Silence.
Then—
"A hunter."
Halric snorted softly.
"That makes two of us."
Corvyn did not look away from the figure.
"These men," he said, gesturing to the bodies, "you killed them."
The stranger did not deny it.
"They were not careful."
A faint breeze moved through the clearing.
The cloak shifted slightly.
Revealing a glimpse of leather armor beneath.
Dark.
Worn.
Not northern noble.
Something older.
Something harder.
Halric's voice dropped.
"You've been hunting them."
"Yes."
Corvyn studied the figure.
Every movement.
Every pause.
"You're not with the Boltons."
"No."
"Nor with us."
"No."
Another silence.
Heavy.
Measured.
Corvyn took a step forward.
"Then why are you here?"
The figure's head lifted slightly.
As if listening to something far beyond the clearing.
"The forest is changing," they said.
Halric frowned.
"That's not an answer."
"It is the only one you need."
Corvyn's grip tightened slightly on his sword.
"You're hunting Boltons in my lands."
The stranger's gaze fixed on him.
"Your lands?"
A faint pause.
Then—
"For now."
Tension sharpened instantly.
Halric's hand moved to his weapon.
"Careful," the knight warned.
But Corvyn raised a hand slightly.
Stopping him.
His eyes remained locked on the stranger.
"You move well," Corvyn said.
"You kill cleanly."
The figure did not react.
"You know the forest," Corvyn continued.
A beat of silence.
Then—
"I do."
Corvyn nodded once.
"Then we have the same enemy."
Halric glanced at him.
"That's one way to look at it."
The stranger studied Corvyn in return.
Long.
Carefully.
Then—
"Perhaps."
A raven cried above them.
Sharp.
Watching.
The stranger's gaze flicked upward briefly.
Then back to Corvyn.
"If you continue deeper," they said,
"you will not find another camp."
Corvyn's eyes narrowed.
"What will we find?"
The answer came without hesitation.
"Something worse."
The wind stirred again.
Cold.
Unwelcome.
Halric let out a quiet breath.
"I don't like the sound of that."
Corvyn took another step forward.
"Then come with us."
The words hung in the air.
The stranger did not answer immediately.
Snow drifted softly between them.
Then—
"We'll see," the figure said.
And in the next moment—
They were gone.
Vanished into the trees.
As if they had never been there at all.
Silence returned.
Halric exhaled slowly.
"I really don't like that."
Corvyn looked toward the shadows where the figure had stood.
Neither did he.
But something told him…
They would meet again.