Game of Thrones-A Dance with Dragons by George R. R.Martin
PROLOGUE
The night was rank with the smell of man.
The warg stopped beneath a tree and sniffed, his grey-brown fur dappled by shadow. A sigh of
piney wind brought the man-scent to him, over fainter smells that spoke of fox and hare, seal and stag,
even wolf. Those were man-smells too, the warg knew; the stink of old skins, dead and sour, near
drowned beneath the stronger scents of smoke and blood and rot. Only man stripped the skins from
other beasts and wore their hides and hair.
Wargs have no fear of man, as wolves do. Hate and hunger coiled in his belly, and he gave a low
growl, calling to his one-eyed brother, to his small sly sister. As he raced through the trees, his
packmates followed hard on his heels. They had caught the scent as well. As he ran, he saw through
their eyes too and glimpsed himself ahead. The breath of the pack puffed warm and white from long
grey jaws. Ice had frozen between their paws, hard as stone, but the hunt was on now, the prey ahead.
Flesh, the warg thought, meat.
A man alone was a feeble thing. Big and strong, with good sharp eyes, but dull of ear and deaf to
smells. Deer and elk and even hares were faster, bears and boars fiercer in a fight. But men in packs
were dangerous. As the wolves closed on the prey, the warg heard the wailing of a pup, the crust of last
night’s snow breaking under clumsy man-paws, the rattle of hardskins and the long grey claws men
carried.
Swords, a voice inside him whispered, spears... To be continued
Product details
Mass Market Paperback: 1216 pages
Publisher: HarperVoyager (15 March 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0006486118
ISBN-13: 978-0006486114
Product Dimensions: 11.1 x 5.3 x 17.8 cm
Buy here
Download here
PROLOGUE
The night was rank with the smell of man.
The warg stopped beneath a tree and sniffed, his grey-brown fur dappled by shadow. A sigh of
piney wind brought the man-scent to him, over fainter smells that spoke of fox and hare, seal and stag,
even wolf. Those were man-smells too, the warg knew; the stink of old skins, dead and sour, near
drowned beneath the stronger scents of smoke and blood and rot. Only man stripped the skins from
other beasts and wore their hides and hair.
Wargs have no fear of man, as wolves do. Hate and hunger coiled in his belly, and he gave a low
growl, calling to his one-eyed brother, to his small sly sister. As he raced through the trees, his
packmates followed hard on his heels. They had caught the scent as well. As he ran, he saw through
their eyes too and glimpsed himself ahead. The breath of the pack puffed warm and white from long
grey jaws. Ice had frozen between their paws, hard as stone, but the hunt was on now, the prey ahead.
Flesh, the warg thought, meat.
A man alone was a feeble thing. Big and strong, with good sharp eyes, but dull of ear and deaf to
smells. Deer and elk and even hares were faster, bears and boars fiercer in a fight. But men in packs
were dangerous. As the wolves closed on the prey, the warg heard the wailing of a pup, the crust of last
night’s snow breaking under clumsy man-paws, the rattle of hardskins and the long grey claws men
carried.
Swords, a voice inside him whispered, spears... To be continued
Product details
Mass Market Paperback: 1216 pages
Publisher: HarperVoyager (15 March 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0006486118
ISBN-13: 978-0006486114
Product Dimensions: 11.1 x 5.3 x 17.8 cm
Buy here
Download here
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