"Killing is not as easy as the innocent believe."
-J.K Rowling
Chapter Eighteen – Reunions
Catelyn Stark could not believe her eyes.
Her husband was in chains in the capital and she had left the Eyrie, left her sister and her madness, because her son was leading a host to war. Her precious Robb, who was barely a man grown, had an amassed an army of his father's loyal bannermen to fight for his father's and his sisters' freedom.
The Gods had seen fit to declare the Imp innocent of the crimes against her son, and in return, they had repaid her with more misery. With a war against her family.
She halted her horse as thousands of tents came into view, and Ser Rodrick did the same at her side. They quickly glanced at each other, a thousand thoughts being expressed in one look between both of them, but only one was voiced.
"Summer snows, my lady." Ser Rodrik commented.
There was indeed a light layer of the white powder dusted across the grass beneath their horses' hooves. They were in the borders of the Riverlands, and very rarely did the northern cold reach here, but there were north men camped just before her.
"Robb's brought the North with him." Catelyn commented lightly, though her heart was anything but.
She pushed her horse forward, wanting nothing more than to be reunited with at least one of her children.
Entering the camp was easy. The Northerners recognized her and nodded their heads in respect as she and Rodrik rode past, guided by a couple of soldiers, until they dismounted their horses and were led to the war tent where her son was surrounded by the lords of the larger houses making battle plans.
She could scarcely believe her eyes. One day, not all that long ago, he had been a boy. Her boy. Now he was a boy with an army at his back. The Gods were not answering her prayers recently it seemed.
Lord Umber noticed her approach first, stood and bowed his head, causing all the other men to take noticed and follow suit.
"Mother." Robb breathed, and for a split second, he had moved to embrace her until he remembered himself. He was leading these men now. He could be a mother's boy no longer. Now he was a man. A man with a single purpose; to bring his family home.
She gazed at her son, finding him to look different from the last time she had seen him. He carried himself differently, she mused, more like Ned did. Like a lord, instead of a lord's son. Technically, he was the lord now.
"You look well." Catelyn said simply, though there was so much more to be said.
"Lady Catelyn, you're a welcome sight in these troubled times." Lord Umber commented, and before she could reply to him, her husband's ward piped up.
"We had not thought to meet you here, my lady." Theon admitted, and Catelyn spared him a glance, noting that he looked the same. A green boy wearing men's clothing and calling himself a man. Catelyn had never voiced this aloud, but she shared her daughter's dislike of the Greyjoy boy. He was a traitor's son and something about him did not sit right with her. Especially now.
"I had not thought to be here. I would speak with my son alone. I know you will forgive me, my lords." Catelyn ordered, though her parting sentence made it seem more like a request. She had become well versed in such phrasings over her years as Lady of Winterfell. Some men did not like being given orders by a woman, so she had found a way to work around them.
"You heard her! Move your arses! Come on, out! You too, Greyjoy. You bloody deaf?" Lord Umber ushered all the other lords out, even nudging Theon out with a firm push to the shoulder. He himself paused a moment longer in the tent, lingering to give Catelyn a small bit of comfort. Even if it did come from a rough northerner such as himself. "Have no fear, my lady. We'll shove our swords up Tywin Lannister's bunghole and then it's on to the Red Keep to free Ned."
Catelyn nodded her thanks to him, ignoring him as he embraced Rodrik behind her, her eyes locked with her son's.
As soon as the two men were away, Catelyn broke into a smile and pulled her son into her embrace. She had missed this. The last time she had held one of her children had been in secret in the Red Keep, holding her eldest as they were reunited for the first time in a couple of months.
She leaned back and smiled up at him, her hand brushing back his auburn curls behind his ears.
"I remember the day you came into this world, red-faced and squalling. And now I found you leading a host to war."
Robb frowned at the change in his mother's voice and face. She wasn't proud of him. She was unhappy that he was leading these men.
"There was no one else."
"No one? Who were those men I saw here?" Catelyn pressed, and Robb fought back a scowl.
"None of them are Starks." He explained, wondering why his mother couldn't see why it had to be him. Nobody else could lead them. He was the Lord of Winterfell while his father had been the Hand of the King, and he was Lord of Winterfell now that his father had been imprisoned. Only he could call the banners. It was his duty.
"All of them are seasoned in battle."
Robb was beginning to get frustrated.
"If you think you can send me back to Winterfell-"
"Oh, would that I could." Catelyn sighed, cutting her son off midsentence. If she could send him away, she would without regrets or shame. She would rather her son be protected and safe at Winterfell than fighting a war. There was no doubt about that. But she couldn't send him away. He may be her son, but he was a man grown now. He would have to be.
Robb pulled away from her, stepping round the table with their battle strategies marked with wooden pieces, to reach into his satchel for the note sent from Sansa.
He had read it over and over. They were the queen's words, aye, but that's not why he continued to read it. There had been no mentioned of either Caryssa or Arya. None at all. It made him worry. He wondered if it meant that they were dead, but every time that particular thought entered his head, he stopped it immediately.
If Caryssa were dead, he would know.
When they were children in Winterfell, they had talked about what it would be like to die during the last winter. Caryssa said that they would have to die together, because she was certain that the pain of living without him would be agonizing. He felt the same.
His connection with this elder sister was something he couldn't really explain, but was something undeniably to do with just how strongly his sister loved.
She then went on to say that if they were ever separated, and one of them died, they would know. He had asked her how, and she had explained that she had heard that when part of your soul dies, you feel it deep within yourself. At the time, he hadn't known what she meant, but now that they were separated, he did.
Robb did not feel that agonizing emptiness now and his sister definitely still shared half of his soul and he half of hers. That is how it always had been, ever since he was born into this world.
He handed his mother the letter, explaining who it was from, and half smiled when his mother guessed what he already knew. Sansa's handwriting, but the words belonged to the queen. Sansa might as well have just been a scribe.
His mother had sat down to read it and she looked up at him when she finished.
"There's no mention of Caryssa or Arya."
"No."
Catelyn looked forlorn for a moment, praying silently to the Mother and the Warrior to watch over her daughters, to protect them from all harm, before she returned her gaze to her son.
"How many men do you have?"
"18,000," Robb answered her, taking a seat opposite her. His hand clenched and unclenched where it rested on his knee, the leather of his gloves straining against the repeated action. Mindlessly, Catelyn thought that if Caryssa had been there, his hand would be in hers and his nervousness or agitation would be less visible to the world. "If I go to King's Landing and bend my knee to Joffrey…"
"You would never be allowed to leave. No," Catelyn shut that idea down immediately. It was no longer as simple as just bending the knee. The Queen and her son had declared war on their family by imprisoning her husband and holding her daughters hostage. "Our best hope, our only hope, is that you can defeat them in the field."
"And if I lose?" Robb asked, though he felt he already knew the answer.
"Do you know what happened to the Targaryen children when the Mad King fell?"
"They were butchered in their sleep." Robb looked away, his eyes focusing on a patch of snow on the ground a little bit away from them, disgust filling his features. Murdering babes and children, it wasn't right.
"On the orders of Tywin Lannister. And the years have not made him kinder," Catelyn informed him, earning her son's gaze again. She continued, her voice taking on as serious a tone as she could possibly manage to convey the importance of her words. "If you lose, your father dies, your sisters die, and we die."
"Well, that makes it simple, then." Robb half-smiled. Putting it like that, the choices he had to make were simple. He would do whatever it took to win this war and keep his family safe.
"I suppose it does."
Riverrun was beautiful.
Or it would be, were it not shrouded in the air of war.
Caryssa had only seen it once, before Arya had been born, but she didn't remember it looking so magical. She realized the castle's sudden almost ethereal beauty was probably due to the fact she was a prisoner in all but name and she was longing for family, even family she barely knew.
She and Jaime were still on unsteady ground, barely speaking past questions and one worded answers. Things were extremely uncomfortable. How could they not be? One moment they were on the brink of something…more than the typical polite political marriage, the next her father had been stabbed, her life-long friend had been killed and she was being forced to march to war against her own family, her own mother.
Jaime's army had already won several battles with some of the river lords who gathered their armies against his, and Caryssa had been forced to sit in a tent, guarded by twenty of his soldiers, waiting impatiently for news on who had been victorious.
Rhaenyra seemed to sense her unease and unhappiness as she was constantly at her side, nuzzling her face into Caryssa's legs or whining or placing her head in Caryssa's lap. In an odd way, her beloved furry companion was reminding her of her littlest brother and it made her heart ache for home once again. She missed having someone to look after, a little wolf child to follow her around and crave her attention and approval. Rickon clung to her skirts as often as he did their mother's and it made her feel needed.
Here, in Jaime's army, Caryssa served no purpose. She was helping no one by being here and she was resenting her husband more and more for making her leave her family behind.
Back in King's Landing, she could have been useful. She could have looked after her sisters while her father recovered from his injury. She could have tended to him herself. She could have made the preparations to have Jory's body returned to the North, where he belonged. So many things that she could have done, but instead duty bound her to a man who was the cause of all her troubles.
The same man who was standing at her side as she gazed upon her mother's family's home as he laid siege to it.
"Have you ever been to Riverrun?"
"Yes. When I was a girl. It was for my Uncle's namesday and it was the first time I had met him or my grandfather." Caryssa replied, her eyes sticking firmly to the castle ahead of them. Tomorrow, it would be laid siege to and it is very possible that her family could die.
"I was sent here a few times when I was a squire. Hoster Tully would make me stay and eat. He always made me sit next to his daughter, Lysa. I think he hoped that we'd become fond of each other and we'd marry, but I was always more interested in talking to the Blackfish." Jaime smiled wistfully as he thought of his old memories and Caryssa finally cast her gaze over him.
"Uncle Brynden?"
"Have you met him?"
"I have. He said I reminded him of my mother," Caryssa turned her eyes away from him again as she thought of her mother. She wished she was with her now. Catelyn, as brash as she sometimes was, would know what to say to her now to make her feel better about things. "That was the first time anyone had ever said that to me. To everyone else, I'm just…"
"Lyanna Stark reborn," Jaime finished for her, and she nodded. "I have never seen you as anyone other than yourself."
Caryssa couldn't even bring herself to roll her eyes. She didn't care for his charm or his attempts to bring her around to his side once more. She couldn't forgive what he did. She wouldn't.
"You won't win. Riverrun won't fall. Not while the Blackfish is there to hold it. You and I both know that this siege will last a long time unless you withdraw your forces," Caryssa informed him, and Jaime snorted at her. Instantly she knew that he was doubting her knowledge of warfare simply because she was a woman. Well, she was the eldest daughter of the lady of one of the Great Houses, of a castle. It was her duty to know about sieges and how to prepare for them and how to survive one. Just because she hadn't lived through one, didn't mean that she had no knowledge of them. "If you and your father carry on this way, you will start a war that will ravage these lands. The North and South will be at odds for centuries over a misunderstanding! Thousands of people will die for nothing more than your family's pride-"
"Your mother started this-"
"The person who ordered my unconscious, defenseless crippled brother to be killed started this. The person who came into our home and pushed my brother from a tower started this," Caryssa shouted at him, squaring up to him now, not caring that they had gained the attention of some nearby Lannister soldiers. Let them watch, she thought, I do not care what they think of me. "Do you think my mother would simply let that go? You saw how Cersei was over Joffrey being bitten by an animal. Imagine it had been an assassin threatening his life instead of a wolf, she would have hunted them down herself if it meant bringing them to justice. That is what mothers do. They go to the ends of the earth for their children. No matter the consequences. Tywin Lannister doesn't care about his dwarf son. He doesn't care that Tyrion may die. He cares that his reputation may be tarnished. That his house may be seen as weak. It's sick."
"Bite your tongue, wife, or lose it." Jaime threatened and Caryssa barked out a laugh, surprised that he would have the audacity to actually threaten her with physical violence. He had never seemed to be such a man. His father, perhaps, but Jaime had seemed like a more decent man. Then again, she had been wrong about him before.
"Try it. Rhaenyra would rip your arm off before you could even step near me with your knife," Caryssa stated, Rhaenyra growled as if in agreement, and she took a brazen step towards her clearly angry husband. She had never seen him in such a way before. Not ever. But she knew that he would not truly hurt her. He wasn't that stupid. "I do not fear you, Ser Lannister. Nor do I fear your men. If any harm should come to me, you would be hunted by my father, my brother, even the King. They would hunt you down and kill you and we both know it."
Caryssa could see her words registering behind her husband's eyes, and he took a step back from her. Before he could say anything in retaliation, his squire ran towards them with a panicked look on his face.
"My lord, news from the capital," Peck panted, and both Ser and Lady Lannister looked at him with a one-minded interest. What had happened now? "The King died a couple weeks past and the Queen Regent has locked Lord Stark in the black cells for treason against King Joffrey. The North is raising an army..."
Her heart stopped.
Her ears were ringing.
Treason?
Not possible.
Her father wouldn't. Not without just cause. Not unless-
This wasn't real…and what on earth was that noise?
Jaime had grabbed the tops of her arms and Rhaenyra was whining worriedly, and that noise was still going; a strange, strangled choking sound, a sound she had never heard before, not in her life.
"Breathe, Caryssa, you have to breathe," Jaime instructed, and she only then realized that her hands were clutching at Jaime's armor, but finding no purchase, and his had moved to her face, forcing her to look at him. "Breathe with me. It'll be alright."
The noise was coming from her.
She was panicking. She couldn't catch her breath. She couldn't. She was trying.
The world went black.
Jaime caught his wife in his arms after she had fainted, completely to his shock. He had never seen her like that before, so panicked and terrified. And she was. The news from the capital had frightened her into losing consciousness.
They both knew what the news had meant.
Her father had been declared a traitor.
Eddard Stark was as good as dead already.
Jaime knew that she had not forgiven him for attacking her father and killing her friend, but he could only hope that she would not hate him for this also. Her father's arrest had nothing to do with him. He would not have been so foolish. If Robert was dead and Joffrey had already declared himself King, it was under Cersei's influence.
He also knew that Eddard meant a lot to his daughter. They had a bond and a friendship that he could not truly understand as he had never had such a relationship with his own father. While her reaction had not been what he had anticipated, thinking of it, Jaime was not all that surprised. Caryssa worshipped her father like he was sent from the Gods themselves; she respected him and loved him in a way he just couldn't respect and love Tywin.
Jaime was her husband now and, as he gazed at her, he realized he hadn't the faintest idea as to what he was supposed to do now.
How was he supposed to comfort his wife when she hated him?
"My lord? Should I call for a maester?" Peck questioned, but Jaime shook his head.
"I'll take her to our tent and wait with her until she wakes. Tell Ser Addam that he is in charge of the siege for now, I do not wish to be disturbed," Jaime ordered. His squire nodded and ran to find Ser Addam to relay his lord's message. Jaime lifted his wife into his arms and stood, pausing only when he heard the growl of her wolf. He turned his eyes down to see the grey speckled white direwolf in full snarl before he managed to snap his fingers at her. "Come, Rhaenyra."
Oddly, the wolf seemed to sense that this was not a moment to be arguing with him, or the animal simply chose her concern over her mistress over her anger towards him. Either way, Rhaenyra stepped into line and followed him back to their tent.
Once inside, he placed a still unconscious Caryssa on their bed, pulling off her riding boots and her cloak and tucking her underneath the furs.
Instead of moving away, Jaime perched on the edge of the bed, his eyes transfixed on his wife's pale skin. Her skin had darkened slightly from the sun in the capital, but now she was as pale as snow, the color drained from her complexion.
She had truly been shaken to the core by today's news and he did not blame her. His wife tried so hard to be strong, and she was mostly, but everyone had a weakness. For some it was money, for others power. Caryssa's one weakness was her family. The same as his.
In that way, he understood her, and she him, but it was their actions and their way of dealing with things that differed. Caryssa was calm and collected. She thought things through. Jaime was brash and unpredictable. He acted first, and thought later. Caryssa thought about the consequences that her actions could have, and Jaime didn't, not until after. If he did, perhaps he wouldn't have attacked her father just when things were starting to look good for them.
Jaime sighed, his fingers brushing some flyaway hairs from her eyes and tucking them behind her ear, before he cupped her face with one hand.
She did not deserve what his family was putting hers through. What he was putting her through.
When she awoke, it was dark and she was alone.
Caryssa blinked rapidly, trying to battle her disorientation and trying to work out what had happened.
She had been arguing with Jaime, she remembered that, and then his squire had come over with that note from King's Landing…
She bolted upright and stifled a gasp with her hand. Her father had been imprisoned. He'd been branded a traitor. Eddard Stark had been declared a traitor. The fact that people could believe that her noble, loyal and honorable father could be anything but a true servant of the rightful king was absurd.
Caryssa felt her heart beating rapidly in her chest. The King was dead too. Robert Baratheon, her father's oldest and dearest friend, the man who had loved her aunt so much he had started a rebellion for her, was dead. Her mind started to whirl. What was happening to the girls? Were they being looked after? Who was looking after them? Were her father's men still alive or had they been killed protecting their lord?
And for one selfish moment, Caryssa thought, 'Who is going to come for me now?'
Rhaenyra, who was keeping guard at the flaps of the tent, started to growl and Caryssa rose from the bed, immediately pulling out the dagger she still wore underneath her skirts. Fuck Tywin Lannister, she wasn't going to be surrounded by her enemies without being armed.
The direwolf was standing now and barking at whatever commotion was sounding outside, because now her mistress could hear it too. It sounded like a battle was being fought out there. Not being privy to Jaime's war councils, she had not known that her brother had called the banners and raised an army of his own to free their father from his imprisonment and save their sisters. Nor did she know that her husband and her brother were meeting at that very moment on the battlefield.
Not until a half crazed Lannister squire came stumbling into her tent, wielding a sword stained with blood.
Rhaenyra backed up towards Caryssa, intent on guarding her, and the woman raised her free hand toward him as he stared at her.
"They're like animals," He muttered. "Animals. They're killing everyone, but a few of us who managed to escape. They are like animals."
He was clearly in shock, and Caryssa was very wary of the sword that he waved around as he spoke, so she used as soft a voice as she could manage in the circumstances and kept her distance.
"Who? Who is killing everyone?" Caryssa questioned, but seeing that he was seeming to not even hear her, she raised her voice. "I asked you a question, soldier. I expect an answer. Who is attacking us?"
"He came here for you. This is your fault!" He charged towards her, but he did not get close.
Rhaenyra pounced on him and knocked him to the ground, her teeth like small blades as they cut through his throat. He screamed, the sound gurgling in his throat as it filled with his own blood, but Caryssa could not find it in her to feel sorry for him. He would have run her through with his sword if Rhaenyra hadn't protect her.
While her wolf finished her kill, Caryssa scrambled towards the chest at the bottom of her bed. Heaving up the heavy lid, she quickly grabbed the items she needed. Her bow and quiver, her bracers, her sword…she did not know how many men still remained alive, but she would be leaving this camp, one way or another.
After strapping her weapons to her body, she quietly peered out of the tent and her eyes widened with what she saw. Tents on fire, Jaime's men scattering, and riders on horses cutting down Lannister soldiers the same way hunters cut down boar. Rhaenyra had padded to her side now, the deranged man dead now, and looked up at her, waiting.
"Come, Rhaenyra. We're leaving."
Creeping out of the tent, Caryssa tried to avoid the confusion of the raid, deciding to hide rather than cut through what men still had their wits about them as she made her way to her horse.
However, it was only a matter of time until she was caught.
"Where do you think you're going?" A gruff, unfamiliar voice questioned her, and Caryssa instinctively drew her sword and turned around quickly to face her attacker.
He was a Lannister man, his red and black armor smattered with dark crimson blood. He was at least a yard or so away from her, and she simply stared at him while she calculated how long it would take her to withdraw her bow and nock an arrow before he could reach her.
Caryssa decided to go for it, reaching back for her bow, nocking an arrow and releasing it. In a matter of seconds, the man was dead at her feet. She stared at his lifeless body for a moment, her breathing becoming shallow once more as it sunk in that she had taken another life, before Rhaenyra was tugging on her skirts to get her to move.
The she-wolf turned and spotted Snow, rushing towards the snowy white mare. Caryssa quickly saddled Snow, cooing to the horse to calm the skittish beast before climbing into the seat and pushing the mare into a gallop.
The young woman afforded herself one glance backwards at the camp, only to make certain that her direwolf was still with her, and saw a white and grey blur directly behind her. Knowing that the wolf was still with her, protecting her from harm, made her feel safer than she had since she had left Winterfell.
Cantering through the woods, Caryssa's eyes scanned the area, having to squint through the filtered forest light in order to make out her surroundings. She couldn't afford to lead Snow over uneven ground and lose her seat and be lost in unfamiliar territory during a raid.
Suddenly breaking through the tree line into a wide clearing, Caryssa pulled Snow to a complete halt as she realized she had managed to stumble across the ongoing battle.
Fear spread through her body and, for a moment, she considered turning around and just disappearing back into the woods. Yet a flash of grey caught her eye and she saw the Stark banners waving in the wind on the other side of the field.
Robb, she thought as she yanked an arrow from her quiver, strung it to her bow and saved a Stark man from being killed from an unsuspecting blow to the back of the head. He spun round to find his savior and his eyes widened before he nodded his thanks. Caryssa didn't recognize the man, but she mused that he must have known her face. Or, at least, the face of her aunt.
Rhaenyra immediately dived into the fray, as though sensing that her brother was here too, ripping out the throats and tearing off the arms of any who moved too near herself or her mistress. It was bloody and terrifying to witness, but Caryssa held in all of the natural hysteria that came with being entirely too uncomfortable with actually taking lives and pushed her horse forward, shooting any Lannister men who tried to reach her.
"Caryssa!"
Her head snapped towards the sound and lapsed on Jaime, who, with dead men at his feet and blood splattered across his fair face, managed to convey pure terror mixed with subtle anger at finding her on the battlefield. She opened her mouth to reply, but saw a young northerner charging at Jaime from behind.
"No!" She cried, only to scream when Jaime turned and stabbed him through the eye, kicking his body off of his sword.
Ignoring her inner conflict, she focused on her rage. That was how Jory had died. That's exactly how Jaime had murdered her mentor and friend, and she had just watched him kill a boy the same way. Putting away her bow, she unsheathed her sword and sloppily cut through unsuspecting southern men as she made her way to her husband.
However, she was beaten there.
The battle had been won. Robb's army had triumphed. Jaime's army had fled or been killed or captured, just as her husband had been by at least four men. She had provided sufficient distraction to him and he had let his guard down enough for him to be wrestled to the ground.
"Ryssa! Ryssa!"
Tears pricked her eyes as she heard that voice. It sounded exactly as it did in her head when she thought of home. Caryssa all but launched herself off of her mount and into her brother's arms as he ran towards her and she threw her arms around neck, clutching him to her.
Brother and sister clung to each other, unsuspectingly reunited against all odds, and neither cared who watched. Her gloved fingers moved from around his neck to cup his cheeks and she got her first good look at his face.
Robb looked different. Older. Weary. Burdened. He was a green boy no longer, but a man grown, and leading an army to war.
"How did it come to this?" Caryssa whispered, and Robb shook his head, pulling her back into his arms.
He didn't have an answer for her.
A/N:
Hello lovely people of the internet!
So here it is. Finally. Chapter 18 of She Runs With Wolves and Lions. I am sorry for the delay, but as you all know, there were difficult circumstances three weeks ago. Damn teenagers and their lack of respect lol Anyway, so I hope you enjoyed this, even if there aren't many happy parts. To be honest, like the show, there will be very few happy moments until we reach the end really. Obviously, there will be happy moments, but there's a lot of angst. A LOT.
But happy news! Robb and Caryssa are reunited! Which makes me really happy because now I can delve more into their relationship and more of the reasons that they are so close. Tiny spoiler, or hint rather, for the next chapter is that we get more of Catelyn. Not her POV, but just her presence. This is important for Caryssa, so wait patiently for it lol.
I'm not entirely happy with this chapter. I feel like the original one I had written was better, but for the most part I think I achieved what I wanted with it. Let me know what you guys think.
Anyway, thank you too all of the wonderful reviewers:
DarylDixon'sLover, NicoleR85, Lucy Greenhill, DragonessUnderTheMountain, Little Bucky, MADStar529, Leah Tatyana Nicole, shipwreck321, Sparky She-Demon, Guest (1), Guest (2), anna123, bluesootsprite, Romantic Journalist, baronnis, HermioneandMarcus, PutThatInYourBlog, 19irene96, Treasure12345, merlinsaprentice, Vikihungerrgame1, Tsuki no Yasha, klandgraf2007, Guest (3), Proxy-Blue22, fears of life, Guest (4), and TheRealTayler13.
Thank you all for reviewing and favouriting and following. Especially all of you who PM'd be for the spoiler. You do not understand how much of a confidence boost that was to see so many of you interested in the future of my story. Thank you so much.
The next update will be June 22nd and if any of you are interested in The Walking Dead, I have an update this Saturday for my Rick/OC story, Exit Wounds.
Thanks for the inspiration,
SophStratt.