I looked down on my father, not metaphorically, but physically. I landed on the Spring of 269 six and a half feet tall and beefy like only a continuous steroid cycle like puberty could make happen. Barrel chested, bull necked, it looked like my traps wanted to eat my ears and my arms and legs were doing their best impression of flesh colored tree trunks. Between my thicc bod and the thick black hair growing from my head to my toes I completed the standard Mormont transformation into a bear in record time.
Game of Thrones: Path of the Hungry Bear
Book&Literature · JManM
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