High in the rookery of Winterfell's tallest tower, the ravens stirred restlessly as if sensing the gathering storm that loomed on the horizon. Among them, a solitary raven with feathers as black as night perched upon its roost, its sharp eyes fixed on the world beyond the castle walls.
Maester Luwin, the keeper of Winterfell's ravens, moved among the birds with practiced ease, his hands deft as he tended to their needs. But beneath his calm exterior, a sense of unease gnawed at his insides, a feeling that grew stronger with each passing day.
As he finished his duties and prepared to descend from the rookery, a sudden cawing drew his attention to the window. There, perched upon the sill, was a raven unlike any he had ever seen before. Its feathers were a deep shade of crimson, and its eyes gleamed with an otherworldly intelligence.
Maester Luwin approached the raven cautiously, his curiosity piqued by its unusual appearance. "What brings you here, my feathered friend?" he asked, his voice soft as he reached out a hand.
To his surprise, the raven cawed loudly and fluttered its wings, as if urging him to follow. Intrigued, Maester Luwin opened the window, and the raven took flight, soaring out into the cold northern sky.
Without hesitation, Maester Luwin followed, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Through the winding corridors of Winterfell he went, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the empty halls.
At last, he emerged into the godswood, the ancient heart tree looming before him like a silent sentinel. And there, beneath its twisted branches, stood the crimson raven, its eyes fixed on something unseen in the darkness beyond.
"What is it, my friend?" Maester Luwin asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he approached the bird.
But before he could reach it, the raven let out a piercing cry, a sound that echoed through the godswood like a warning bell. And then, with a final flutter of its wings, it vanished into the night, leaving Maester Luwin alone in the cold embrace of the forest.
For a moment, he stood there in stunned silence, trying to make sense of what had just occurred. But as he gazed up at the ancient heart tree, he felt a chill run down his spine, a feeling that told him he had stumbled upon something ancient and powerful.
With a sense of urgency, Maester Luwin made his way back to the castle, his mind racing with questions and possibilities. What had the raven been trying to tell him? And what did it mean for the fate of Winterfell and all who dwelled within its walls?
As he pondered these questions, the distant howl of a wolf echoed through the night, a mournful cry that spoke of dangers yet to come.
End of Chapter Six.