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Summary
Rafe watched him for a long moment. She tapped a meaningless rhythm against the whetstone with her nail, then said, “You got a look to you, Dunk.”
“That bastard look?” he said with a raised brow. Rafe and Arlan had debated Dunk’s parentage in the past, though Rafe liked to argue that Dunk was born from a giant who fucked a Mormont beyond the wall. Arlan said Dunk was probably some Umber’s bastard, though he always had a wry to look him as he said it.
“Dragon look,” said Ser Arlan, softly. He examined a strip of bark in his hands. “Got that kingly look to you, Dunk.”