[ she lies well, the mention of men setting him on edge. he tries not to let it show, but the ruin of a man formerly known as theon greyjoy trembles like a leaf despite himself, his fear shining bright in his eyes as they drift towards the windows and doors. in the back of his mind, he knows there's no way in seven hells the men she speaks of could be lord ramsay and his boys. yet he expects them all the same, his lordship wet-lipped and smiling, ben bones and the bastard's girls, damon dance-for-me with his long, greased whip, luton and grunt, and the rest. ]
[ it's enough to make him come close to pissing his breeches. twitching, reek's gaze rises and falls from sansa's face. ]
no subject
[ it's enough to make him come close to pissing his breeches. twitching, reek's gaze rises and falls from sansa's face. ]
Reek. I'm Reek.