To this day.
Bran was already skilled in using his talent.
He could transform into a bird and soar into the sky, turn into a frog and hop around, or enter a Trout's body and swim in the river...
Of course, his favorite was still his Little Wolf.
Bran agonized over the Little Wolf's name for a long time, but thankfully, after confiding in the Crown Prince a few days ago, he accepted His Highness's suggestion - "Summer".
Summer.
Summer in the south was the real summer; unlike Winterfell, where you had to dress warmly no matter the season, which really hindered climbing.
His Highness truly hadn't lied.
Thinking of this, Bran couldn't help but complain about the stingy Arya.
That magical steel shard allowed him to talk to His Highness in The North and Jon, but Arya only let him use it for a short while each time, which wasn't nearly enough. She wouldn't budge even when he threatened to tell Father.
What a stingy person.
Bran felt that if it were him, he would be much more generous; anyone who wanted to use it could.
But he wasn't jealous.
Arya's gift was the talking steel shard;
His sister Sansa had a Winter Roses crown that was as vibrant as new, seemingly eternal and unchanging;
He himself had been saved by His Highness and had gained the magical ability to enter animal bodies, and could even see a world without color with his eyes closed.
Compared to that, Bran was very satisfied with his gift.
With these unique "eyes," Bran was able to see many things he couldn't before during the journey south.
He saw the King and Father drinking and eating meat together, hunting together, laughing and cursing, openly expressing their true thoughts. The two were even closer than Bran and his older brother.
He saw his sister Sansa and Jeyne Poole whispering together, their faces suddenly turning red.
He saw Arya making friends with many people in the group or along the way, playing around everywhere, running wild outside all day until it was dark before returning to camp.
Recently, Arya had become obsessed with wooden sword fighting, practicing by the river every day with a butcher's apprentice named Mycah. Even when her arms were bruised from the wooden sword, she wouldn't give up. Her temper was still as stubborn.
In the past, Bran would have long since been unable to resist running out to play.
But now it was different.
Since gaining these "eyes," he had gradually grown to like observing this wonderful world from various angles, and besides, there weren't many tall towers to climb along the way.
The inn they were currently staying at was the same. Although it covered a large area and was built of white stone three stories high, it wasn't tall enough for him at all.
Summer was still more interesting.
So Bran lay down on the bed, his consciousness entering Summer's body.
Summer, who was lying on the floor by the bed, quickly stood up on all fours, blinked his intelligent eyes, and quickly slipped out through the open door.
Summer quietly walked down the stairs, but the path wasn't smooth.
He was already the size of an ordinary adult wolf, and the inn servants who encountered the Direwolf were all weak in the legs and stood rooted to the spot, not daring to move an inch until he had passed, after which they scurried away in a panic.
Bran had long been used to people's reactions.
The party had to change camps every day or two, giving people no time to get used to the Direwolf, so every time he entered Summer and went out, it caused a commotion.
Father had advised him to keep a close eye on Summer, but Bran only endured it for a few days.
There was nothing he could do; he had fallen in love with this feeling, and Summer wouldn't actually harm anyone, only go out to forage.
Bran and Summer walked down to the inn lobby. Ser Barristan the Bold and the Kingslayer were both there, along with many Lannister people who hadn't gone hunting with King Robert.
Bran had long known the King's habits.
The King hardly went a day without dragging Father out to hunt beasts everywhere. Recently, he was even unwilling to bring many guards, setting off with just Father and a few others.
In the King's own words, "Ned and I together can smash even the Targaryens to pieces, what do we need guards for?!"
Despite this, Father still insisted on bringing a dozen or so Soldiers along each time.
Before leaving the main entrance, Bran took a good look at the inn through Summer's eyes; they would be striking camp tomorrow.
He saw the Soldiers laughing and clinking cups.
He saw a few handmaidens by the Queen's side carrying food and drink upstairs, where Queen Cersei, Prince Tommen, Princess Myrcella, and his sister Sansa were talking harmoniously.
He saw the plump innkeeper Masha Heddle bending over to pour wine for Ser Jaime, revealing a dozen blood-red teeth in her mouth.
He remembered when they first entered the inn, the innkeeper had also smiled and given the children sweet cakes. Bran was very satisfied with the cake, but the innkeeper's blood-red smile always felt scary.
But now he sniffed it; it wasn't the smell of blood, but the lingering smell of tobacco.
Bran wasn't scared at all anymore, and he and Summer ran towards the woods.
The land, grass, and figures rapidly receded from his eyes. The fresh wind wrapped around his silver fur and his smoky-grey yellow eyes; this was who he was now.
Bran knew this was the world he wanted.
He could smell the faintest scent in the soil, could smell animals miles away, and even simple roasted meat had many different alluring smells that whetted the appetite.
He could still see the nighttime scenery, not through his own kind of "eyes," but entirely through Summer's vision.
It felt incredibly strange. There were no bright colors, but the gray world had clear and distinct shapes, and he finally knew what he looked like in Summer's eyes.
He also heard many, many things. As long as he quietly lay in a corner, people wouldn't pay attention to this direwolf with its ears perked up, talking about everything without restraint.
Bran thus learned some of people's true thoughts. They seemed to be able to hate everything in the world, regardless of beauty, ugliness, good, or bad.
Are all adults this bad?
He plunged into the woods and ran wildly, thinking of nothing, just dodging the countless trees ahead, leaping one moment, turning the next, and sliding under hollows.
He forgot everything in the human world, only wanting to keep running like this forever.
But Summer was still tired.
Bran felt waves of hunger from his belly, much stronger than a human's, almost as if he hadn't eaten in half a year.
He raised his wolf head and looked around, sniffing. King Robert and his father in the woods were hunting wild bulls. The beasts and birds suitable for Summer to eat had long since fled far away.
He ran towards the direction of the moisture, finally arriving at the confluence of the Green Fork and the Blue Fork. There must be fish here.
He saw Arya and Mycah sparring not far away.
He remembered. This was where Arya said she wanted to find rubies, the battlefield where King Robert killed Rhaegar—the Ruby Ford.
He stepped into the shallow water.
The taste of trout was fresh and strong. Summer happily grinned.
But it immediately leaped back onto the shore!
Bran looked upstream. A putrid, bloody smell was constantly approaching, and a large, long shadow lurked beneath the water.
Summer struggled, filled with fear and unease.
Bran remembered the Neck on the journey south. There was a smell there almost identical to this shadow.
Lizard-lion.
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