Hi guys, so I kind of forgot about this, and it was only thanks to Avo (a person on here, not the Fable God) that I remembered and decided to post again.

Hope you enjoy :)

Daenerys ran playfully from him, hiding quietly behind a birch tree and diving into the snow, flattening herself so she couldn't be seen. She could hear him following, and knew he was relaxed, despite the cuts lacing his body.

Slowly, she crept out from the snow bank, and turned to look around the tree, but couldn't see him.

"Drogo?" she called, when she heard a soft padding sound behind her and a strong arm wrapped around her waist. She was pulled into his soft warm fur, and he nuzzled her neck.

"Got you" he chuckled, a low rumble in the back of his throat. He sounded kinder, and she wriggled around in his arms to face him, burying her face into his chest, feeling his muscles tighten as he sat down, holding her close.

Then suddenly, he pushed her to the ground, flattening himself over her to keep her still, and hissing in her ear for her to be quiet. A rush of emotions filled her; panic and confusion most present. But she stayed quiet like he told her to, and kept very still underneath him.

Then she heard what he had heard, and twisted slightly in the dead patches of grass and flurries of snow to see the men creeping along slowly to the glade, bundled in thick clothing to keep them warm, with their metal poles raised and the expressions on their faces was one of intense collective seriousness.

"They're hunting…" Drogo growled, and he tensed his back legs ready to jump up to the trees. Danny barely had time to spin around and wrap her arms around him, holding him close and imploring him to stay down with her eyes.

"They'll kill you too" she gasped, tears springing to her eyes as she felt this dire conflict swell in her chest, squeezing at her heart. "Please, stay."

This only angered Drogo, but he waited until the last of the men had passed before wrenching himself away from her and snarling down.

"What of mother? They'll kill her! They'll kill the one who took you in and protected you from the others. What of the young? They'll see their parents and their pack slaughtered, then have the thunder turned on them."

Daenerys choked slightly, reaching for him, but he already leapt away, high into the trees to send ice cascading down on her when the first howl of terror sounded, and the thunder cracked all around.

It was almost too easy to kill them this way. Half the males had been killed fighting over the bitches of the pack, and the other half were weak from fighting. It seemed almost cruel, but Ben comforted himself in the thought that any one of these creatures could have killed Kieran, and this was revenge. Obviously not all of them had killed his friend, but then they would have gone on to kill more people…

Wouldn't they?

It was sad watching the older beasts run to try and protect their cubs, but he kept firing.

Shooting one through the head, turning away as it screamed and fell, a mess of tangled and matted bloody fur on the forest floor, it's brains spattered out staining the white snow red.

Another through the leg, watching briefly as it bled out, whimpering on the ground as its child ran to it, nudging it and crying out pathetically. He gasped slightly when he watched the baby Balverine tumble over, dead, and turned to see Jammy biting his lip with a hint of regret.

"It'd only grow up to be as bad as the others" he called, justifying the shot.

Ben couldn't care less. As much as he liked shooting things, he didn't like the idea of a life ending so young. It seemed immoral to him, and regrets about shooting an animal wasn't a thing that normally bothered the soldier.

Then something crashed sidelong into him, and he barely had time to register the yellow eyes burning into him when they were gone again, the weight of the Balverine leaving him as two of his comrades turned to shoot the thing. He looked up in an almost drowsy state, trying to catch his breath as the monster landed near some of the young, scooping them up in its front strong arm before leaping away again, getting them to safety. He was secretly glad that some of the young were rescued, but then bit his lip when only moments later, it was back, snarling and howling threateningly at them all, but it moved far too quickly for one of the others to shoot.

It sprinted forward, and Ben rolled over, keeping low to the ground and sinking lower into the snow, grabbing his fallen gun as it came headfirst at him, teeth bared, and he aimed.