“Thousands of enemies. Thousands of wildlings.”
Thousands of people, Jon thought. Men, women, children. Anger rose inside him, but when he spoke his voice was quiet and cold. “Are you so blind, or is it that you do not wish to see? What do you think will happen when all these enemies are dead?”
Above the door the raven muttered, “Dead, dead, dead.”
“Let me tell you what will happen,” Jon said. “The dead will rise again, in their hundreds and their thousands. They will rise as wights, with black hands and pale blue eyes, and they will come for us.”
↳ A Dance with Dragons / A Song of Ice and Fire
