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A cripple?
You let a cripple escape?
The boy can't walk, but somehow he slipped past you?
The giant must have took him.
The giant?
Hodor?
Oh, that's all right, then.
You let a halfwit escape with a cripple.
And Rickon, too? The little one?
Gone, along with the wildling woman.
The one you were ***.
Right.
Get the horses and the hounds.
Come on, find the scent.
Where they going?
Halt!
Enjoying your first hunt?
So far, hunting seems very similar to riding, my lord.
With hunting, there's blood at the end.
They're little boys.
I was a little boy when I was torn away from my home and brought here.
So I kept my word. I never ran away.
If I find them soon enough, I won't hurt them.
Well, I'll hurt them, but I won't kill them.
Those boys are of far more value to you alive than dead.
They have no value to me missing.
Robb will have sent a force to retake Winterfell by now.
Robb's in the Riverlands. My sister's in Deepwood Motte.
She'll get here long before they do.
And Ned Stark always said 500 men could hold Winterfell against 10,000.
- MAN: We have a scent!
The hounds have the scent.
Come, Maester, don't look so grim.
It's all just a game.