He's walking the battlements, as he has done so oft, when Ghost whines for the first time. Jon doesn't know what it is that's troubling him, and that in itself is enough to make him uneasy. So he scratches Ghost between the ears in the small hope that it will ease whatever it is that is bugging him.
It doesn't.
It happens again when Jon is praying in the godswood, back to the tree and silent; deep in thought. When he was younger, he would beg the gods to tell him who his mother was. Now, he only begs for peace. For family. Even that feels as though he is asking for too much.
Ghost is laying on the frozen pool in front of him, his head in his paws and red eyes staring up at Jon in some form of earnest. Jon doesn't understand. His wolf has never acted this way before.
The third time it happens, they are at dinner. Sansa is beside him, quietly playing with a bowl of broth but not eating. He wants to ask her what's wrong, but he can't bring himself to. Just like with Ghost. He sees her eyes flit briefly to Baelish and he thinks he might have a good idea, anyway.
Jon slips a bit of chicken under the table for Ghost, who nips gently at it but does not partake in the treat.
Jon sighs.
The fourth and final time happens at the late night war council, which Sansa convened because she cannot sleep. Jon stands across from her at the edge of the table, Ghost anxiously pacing the length between them. Davos and Lord Manderly are arguing about how best to subdue the threat of the Ironborn, should they choose to attack.
"We can draw them into the Bay of Ice," Sansa says suddenly. Jon's eyes shoot up to meet her face, which he sees his nervous but confident at the same time. Quickly, at their frowns, she elaborates; "Lord Forrester can feign an alliance with Euron Greyjoy. What the terms would be, I haven't the faintest, but Euron needs lumber. Pyke has no trees, and Theon stole half of his fleet." Theon and Yara, Jon thinks, prickling just at the mention of his turncloak foster-brother, but he says nothing.
Sansa goes on. "Lord Forrester and Lord Glover would use both of their forces to fight them on the mainland, where they're weakest. Their men know the Wolfswood. Using it as a battleground would cause for a huge advantage." She indicates to the area, near Sea Dragon Point, now talking faster, "Lord Manderly, you can use your fleet to form a blockade so that they cannot escape the bay. They'll attempt to draw back, and that's when you attack them using your men. We come at them from both sides."
Jon thinks it's an excellent plan. He says as much, and she beams at him.
Lord Manderly is scratching his beard and nodding. "Aye, it's good, my lady," he agrees, eyes seeing Jon's sister in a new light. "They'll never know what hit them."
"What about the western shores?" Asks Lord Flint, eying his own lands. Jon leans forward. "You'll have to use your own men to fight them off, along with Dustin men."
Suddenly Ghost yaps. Jon almost jumps, but he manages to suppress the urge in time. Instead he glares down at his wolf. "What is it?"
"Is he hungry?" Sansa asks him, frowning.
"No," Jon says, thinking of the unaccepted food he offered Ghost. "He's been off all day."
Ghost yaps again, wagging his tail. He is excited, Jon realises, though about what he has no notion. Jon exchanges a confused look with Sansa. And then, with a loud yelp, Ghost takes off. He is scratching at the doors of the Great Hall not a moment later, waiting for Jon to let him out.
"You're all dismissed," he tells the men, baffled at the unusual behaviour of his direwolf. Most leave, save for Davos, Tormund, and Sansa. Jon walks to his wolf and opens the door. Immediately Ghost bolts, running through the snow into the middle of the courtyard.
There is nothing out there, Jon thinks as he leaves the stuffy hall to breathe in the night air. There is nothing to see—
"Nymeria!" Her voice cracks like a whip, and his head turns so fast it clicks. Ghost is howling, along with another wolf; this one a mass of grey and white, with molten gold eyes that he remembers so well. Nymeria, Arya's wolf.
Arya.
She is standing at the East Gate, with a travel cloak wrapped round her shoulders. In her haste to catch her wolf the hood flies away to reveal her brown hair, which is even shorter than he remembered it to be, and tied up like Father used to wear it. Arya. Arya is there, right there.
She doesn't stop until she sees Ghost. Then she is frozen, just as he is, watching the two wolves meet again. Nymeria nips at Ghost's ear and Jon's wolf snaps back playfully. An easy companionship that reflects the one he and Arya shared, one which he had missed and longed for.
When her eyes at last leave the wolves they go upward, landing upon where he is stood. He sees her eyes widen, dark like his, the very same ones. Jon is not quite sure what to do, what to say. It is like Sansa all over again, but this time there is something to go back to.
"Jon," she chokes. And then she is running at him, so fast he barely has time to process it. But then it all comes back to him when she jumps up, and for a moment everything seems to stop; he sees her standing there, begging him to go with her. Stick 'em with the pointy end.
Then he blinks and her arms are wrapped around his neck, his around her middle. She's shaking, and there is snow in their hair. He can hear her frantic heart beat. She's home. Arya is home. Arya is here and alive.
"I have missed you, little sister."