So I mentioned that I got my rat when I was back home in Sligo, and said I might post a pic. So ta-da: meet Terry.
The host is riding from Knocknarea
These are beautiful.
What’s brilliant about the writing is that in that moment, that’s the first moment Brienne considers it, and it’s the horror that that might be true and what she might have to deal with. […] She moves away; she doesn’t do the formal exit. She just has to turn away. Even Brienne is incredibly aware of respectability and manners, as difficult as it is for her; she’s still a lady. But she doesn’t give a formal exit, she turns away. Then in her eye-line is Jaime. It’s, I think, really slapped her hard on one side of the face, and then the other even harder, as she runs off red-faced. “Oh, God!” - Gwendoline Christie
