Sansa rose from her desk and stepped outside the room, instructing her guard to fetch Maester Wolkan from his study. While they waited for his return, she and Tyrion sat in silence. She felt a strange lightness, a sensation that was almost foreign to her. There was no reason to feel so at ease just now, her problems were as pressing as ever. She supposed it did feel rather nice to let someone in on the details of her most pressing problem though. They probably wouldn't find any brilliant solution; even Tyrion wasn't clever enough to pull food out of thin air and snow banks. Still, she was relieved not to carry the burden alone; at the very least she might have someone to commiserate with. With that thought, a single knock sounded at the door, and it was opened to allow the Maester to enter.

"Lady Stark, I am told you require my services?"

"Maester Wolkan. Yes, come over here, Lord Tyrion and I are in need of your knowledge of the castle storerooms."

"The storerooms, my lady? I trust you know they are dwindling?"

"I am well aware of that fact Wolkan. Lord Tyrion and I have spent the morning comparing records of the different encampments. Look here, you can see we've begun to organize things, but I discovered something missing amongst my papers. I have records for all the Northern alliance, except the Wildlings. There's absolutely nothing pertaining to their use of supplies from the castle. The papers must have been misplaced, do you have copies of your own Maester?"

A look of confusion passed across his face, "No my lady, nothing is misplaced. There are no records at all."

At this Sansa cut in indignantly, "No records? How have we been so lax? If we do not take a proper accounting of our…"

Maester Wolkan interjected quickly "No my lady, please allow me to explain, there was never any need of record keeping, not for the Wildlings at least. They have refused any offer of supplies from Winterfell. Something about not needing "Southern charity." I think it's damned foolish, but they are a strange folk after all. We took them at their word and left the camp alone after that. So, you see, no need for record keeping Lady Stark."

Tyrion had held his tongue up to this point, but he couldn't remain silent any longer, "Maester are you telling us the Wildling camp has been surviving for months with no assistance from the castle? How is that possible?"

"Well, my lord, I really couldn't say. Wildling affairs are none of my business, they're Lord Snow's people really. And they keep to themselves don't they? How is anyone to know what they get up to in their camp?"

A silence fell as Sansa and Tyrion let the maester's words sink in.

"My lady, is there anything else I can be of assistance with? I was tending to the ravens when your man summoned me…" he trailed off and looked at Sansa expectantly.

"Yes Maester Wolkan, you may return to your work, you've been most helpful."

The maester made his exit, leaving Sansa and Tyrion alone again to contemplate his words. Sansa was intrigued, had the Wildlings transported so many supplies when they fled their villages beyond the wall? Tyrion was right, they had to understand all the pieces of this puzzle. She'd tie up this loose end with the Wildlings and then she could really begin to tackle the problems ahead of her.

"We have to speak to the Wildlings, it's our only next move, should we have some brought up here?" Tyrion began rising to summon the guardsman again.

"No, not yet."

"My lady?"

"I mean we shouldn't summon them, I don't think they'll enjoy being at the beck and call of southerners. This time we have to find Jon, he'll go with us to speak to them."

"Of course. Shall we search out some dragons then?"

"Yes, let's find some dragons"

Stepping out into the winter air, Sansa felt a familiar rush of exhilaration. She loved its clean, crisp bite on her face. She realized how long she had been hiding away inside, trying to avoid the castle's other occupants. It was foolish of her to sequester herself, but the demands of her allies had become overwhelming in the past weeks, she had taken to avoiding them just to relieve the pressure on herself. But this felt good, stepping outdoors, and having a purpose. She worked hard to dampen her expectations, but she couldn't help thinking that she might actually learn something new today, instead of just fending off demands she couldn't meet.

She walked with Tyrion along the battlements of the castle, using the vantage point to scan the sky. Soon, they spotted a dark speck, it must be a dragon, and perhaps Jon or the Queen was riding it. The speck grew larger, and closer, until wings, body and tail began to take shape. She knew Jon often went out early in the morning, but the afternoon was growing late so she guessed he would be heading back to Winterfell now. She was proven correct as the beast flew closer, landing in the snowy fields some distance away. A rider dismounted and she was sure she recognized Jon's shape.

"It's him, Lord Tyrion, lets go meet him at the gates"

They made their way to the ground and managed to intercept Jon at the castle's inner gates.

"Sansa! I haven't seen you for days, where have you been hiding?" Jon said playfully, Sansa was glad to see his spirits seemed considerably lifted.

"You know I haven't been hiding from you Jon, maybe from Lady Mormont though," She countered back with a wry grin.

"Ah the little battleax, I don't blame you Sansa"

Sansa smiled, then brought a tone of seriousness to voice "Jon, will you speak with me for a moment? We need your help." Sansa glanced behind her to Tyrion to indicate his presence.

Jon looked a little surprised to see the two of them together, but quickly acquiesced. "Walk with me. I'm absolutely famished, let's head to the kitchens and see what's left from lunch."

They walked in silence, Sansa not wanting to discuss their problems in earshot of too many people. It wouldn't do any good to spread panic among her people. They reached the kitchen and Jon procured a bowl of stew, seating himself at a rough table in a corner of the kitchen, where Tyrion and Sansa joined him.

"So, what's on your mind Sansa?"

"Food actually, Jon. Supplies generally I suppose. You know how short we're running."

"I've heard the pantries are a little bare, yes. Nothing we can't weather though, northerners are tough people."

"Jon, it's much worse than that. We might only make it another month or two before serious shortages arise. I'm worried about how we'll feed our people. So is Lord Tyrion, that's why he came to me. Food supplies are running dangerously low, you know how the Bolton's ransacked the castle, it's left us exposed to starvation this winter. And on top of that, the Queen's southern armies are struggling with our northern climate. We're concerned about how our combined armies will survive if we're here for much longer."

Jon looked a bit taken aback by her words. "Well no one's mentioned any of this to me. Are you sure it's so bad?"

Tyrion spoke up now "Yes my lord, it is every bit as serious as your sister says. We've both been worried for weeks, but we spent the morning together comparing notes, and I can confirm that we are facing a serious threat in the coming months."

Jon's brow furrowed with concern, "we have to stay here at Winterfell, the white walkers could come any day, and there must be an army in the North to face them. We'll need to feed and outfit our soldiers, there must be a way to stretch the food, or maybe to bring fresh supplies in by ship?"

"No Jon, the snows have gotten deeper since you arrived with Daenerys and Lord Tyrion. We can't count on anyone going in or out of the North. But, we haven't come here just to complain. Lord Tyrion and I made an interesting discovery this morning. You see, every noble house and army that has taken up residence around Winterfell is drawing on the castle storerooms. Careful records have been kept, and they paint a dire picture. But we realized this morning that no records exist for the Wildling encampment."

Jon looked intrigued now, "And what does that mean?"

"Well," Sansa paused, "We don't exactly know what it means, but Maester Wolkan assures me it's not a bookkeeping error, the Wildlings actually haven't been surviving on Winterfell's supplies."

"That doesn't make any sense though, I know they're not fond of southerners like us, but they have to eat somehow."

"Yes, they do. We're not sure how they're doing it, but that's why we need your help. Jon, will you take us to talk with their leaders, I know they respect you. If you go with us I think we might actually learn something from them."

"If you think it will help, I'll happily take you now Sansa. Is Lord Tyrion coming?"

"Of course he is, aren't you my lord?" Sansa looked to Tyrion for confirmation.

"Oh yes, I can't leave a puzzle halfway unsolved."

Together, the three of them arrived in the Wildling encampment, where Jon led them to an unassuming tent with a man clad in heavy furs sitting in front of the entrance. Jon approached the man, speaking to him in a low tone so that Sansa couldn't make out his words, he only gestured at herself and Tyrion occasionally. Finally, the man nodded and drew back the tent flap. Jon turned to Sansa and Tyrion, "We have been granted an audience with Val, she is the good-sister of the late King-beyond-the-wall Mance Rayder."

Sansa had to bend to step through the tent's entrance, but once inside, she was impressed to find the dwelling warm and relatively spacious. A man could stand up straight in the center, although the Lady Val was seated nearer the edge on a pile of furs, where the ceiling of the structure drew closer to the ground. Jon spoke first, introducing her as his sister and the Lady of Winterfell, and Tyrion as Hand to Queen Daenerys. Both Sansa and Tyrion bowed low, conscious of meeting a Wildling princess. But Val quickly began laughing at them, "Have you brought me more kneelers Lord Crow? Tell your friends to stand and tell me why they are here."

Sansa looked and saw Jon had remained standing, she remembered then that the Wildling people were different, not so concerned with titles as the people of the Seven Kingdoms. She stood tall, and said in a clear voice, "Lady Val, we came here to discuss the matter of food and supplies…"

Val cut her off, "Supplies? What is there to talk about? We turned your Maester away months ago; my people don't need southerners to tell them how to survive in the snow. And there's no need for this "my lady" business, my name is Val, and that is what you will call me." Val reclined back, looking at Sansa critically.

"Val," the name felt uncomfortable in her mouth. After years of careful courtesy it felt unnatural to dispense with titles. "Val, let me be more clear. I see from the camp that your people are thriving; they are warm and well fed. My Maester and our records tell the same story you do, the Wildlings have not taken outside help. But my people, and Lord Tyrion's, do not fare so well. We have come in hopes of learning from you."

"I see. The southerners come with questions. They want to understand us. Do you not think us too wild, too uncivilized, to merit imitation?"

Val was testing her, and Sansa knew she could not slip through this situation with courtly manners alone, she decided to simply be candid with the woman. "Perhaps such disdain was the way of our fathers, Val, but we are living in different times. There is a greater threat than any of our people have ever faced, and we must all be strong enough to face it together. If the Wildlings have a way to survive, then none of us shall disdain it."

There was a pause, Val seemed to mull over her words, and Jon and Tyrion both stood silently by her side. Then, the Wildling woman spoke, "you are right Sansa, we will all need strength if we have a hope of survival. If you are truly eager to learn our ways, I can make introductions for you around the camp. The freefolk live their own lives, and they all have their own ways of survival, but perhaps some will share their wisdom with you and your people. I am not their queen or their lady, but they respect me, and my introduction will help ease your way."

For the rest of the day, Val lead them throughout the sprawling Wildling camp, stopping at many dwellings to speak with the inhabitants. Together, Jon, Sansa, and Tyrion began to learn the ways of Wildling survival. They learned that deep beneath the snow were starchy roots and tubers that could be chipped away from the frozen ground. Although hunting boars and stags was out of the question in the deep snows, the Wildlings knew how to make clever traps that could capture smaller creatures as the darted across the snowy landscape. It made for simple food, but it was nourishing and it had kept people alive beyond the wall for many winters. Even the snow itself was valuable. It could be shaped into surprisingly sturdy dwellings, so that skins and furs could be saved for making warm clothing. This way of living was harsh and difficult, but Sansa began to see how her people might be able to stretch their supplies and survive just a little while longer if they were willing to learn from Val's people.