Ramsay wandered the bank of the river, scowling. His mother was mad at him again, so he didn't want to go back to the mill. He had sent the day outside, playing with his crossbow, shooting at cats, rabbits, and any other small creature unfortunate enough to catch his eye. He rarely hit them, though, and so he had soon grown tired of his game. He didn't know what good his crossbow was if he couldn't even manage to kill anything with it. Maybe he just needed bigger targets. His crossbow was only half the size of a proper one, though, so he doubted he would be able to kill something like a deer with it.

He heard a rustling in the bushes, and quickly turned, raising his crossbow. It sounded bigger than a cat. Maybe if he had the element of surprise, he would actually manage to kill something. He saw a patch of brown fur between the leaves, and let lose a bolt as quickly as he could. A high pitched whimpering told him his shot had struck home. A large brown mutt collapsed out of the bushes. Ramsay felt a swelling of pride when he saw that he had somehow managed to hit the dog right in one of its eyes. He moved towards it and grabbed the bolt, yanking it out. He reloaded his crossbow, in case there was anything else to shoot at. He then leaned in to examine the hole. He hoped maybe he would be able to see the dog's brain.

"Lace! Lace, where are you?" A girl's voice rang out, and Ramsay heard the sound of her footsteps approaching. He quickly stood up. He debated running away, but before he had a chance, she emerged. She ignored him, though, and headed straight for the dog. "Lace! Is that you?" When she got close enough to see the hole where her dog's eye had once been, she shrieked, and turned on Ramsay. "What did you do!?" Not seeing any point in lying, he shrugged and held up the crossbow. "You… I know who you are! You're that freak! The bastard from the mill!"

Ramsay scowled, but said nothing. He knew who she was, too. Alys, the butcher's daughter. She was a few years older than him, and very pretty, with big brown eyes and more freckles than you could ever hope to count. She was tall, too. Ramsay was big for his age, but she was still more than a head taller than he was. His mother said she was a whore, and that half the men in the village had had her within a fortnight of her flowering. She was holding a squirming puppy in her arms.

"You killed her!" She stared at him, her expression a mix of anger and disgust. "Gods, what is wrong with you, bastard? I heard you were a freak, but- ugh!" Words seemed to fail her.

"It's just a stupid dog." He muttered. He didn't like how she was talking to him at all. Like she was better than him, even though she was just a stupid girl.

"That 'stupid dog' helped keep my father's shop free of rats! He'll beat you black and blue when he finds out."

"He will not."

"He will. He'll beat you so bad you won't even be able to walk after. And it'll be better than you deserve, bastard." She lost control of the squirming puppy in her arms, and dropped it to the ground. Ramsay watched it stumble over to the big dog's corpse – maybe she was its mother. It nuzzled at her and made a high pitched whimpering noise. "Hey!" He looked up from the puppy. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, bastard!" She was saying that word too much. She thought she was better than him, but she wasn't. She was a stupid whore. "Come with me." She said haughtily. "We're going to go to see my father right now, and he'll teach you you're place."

"I don't have to listen to you."

"You do if you don't want me to break your ugly face even more than the gods already did."

"My father is your father's Lord, you know. He's the Lord of all of you, so you had better leave me alone."

"Well my father says that your mum is a lying whore. And even if you were Lord Bolton's bastard, he obviously doesn't care about you. Otherwise why would he make you live out here?"

"My mum is not a whore!"

"Then where does all her money come from?"

"From my father."

"Liar. You're a bastard and she's a whore and you're both lia-" Her eyes widened in shock. The crossbow bolt that was sticking out of her throat had cut her speech off. Her mouth formed an O, and her eyes went very wide. It was actually sort of funny looking, and Ramsay giggled. She fell over, still staring up at him. He just stood there and watched her die. It didn't take very long.

He pulled the bolt out of her neck, not wanting to leave anything that might make people think it was him. He would probably get in trouble, and his mother would make him sleep in the stables for a month. He turned to leave, but paused.

The puppy was still staying close to its mother's corpse. When he moved towards it, it tried to run away, but he grabbed it before it could get away. It squirmed in his grasp, but it was so tiny that he held it fairly easily. With all the puppy's flailing, he noted that it was a girl.

"Stay still." He commanded. "I'm not going to hurt you, stupid." Of course, she didn't listen. He managed to hook his arm around her so she couldn't get away. "You're mine now, so stop squirming." Maybe he could train it to kill rabbits and cats with him. Besides, if he left her here, the stupid butcher would come find her and take her back to live with him. And he didn't want that, no one who called his mother a whore deserved to have anything.

"Alright, Alys, we're going home." He didn't know why he decided to call her that. But it was a good name.