EXT. CLEARING - DAY
Snow drifts across the bodies of the fallen dead. Eight corpses lie frozen on the ground-- men, women, and children, wearing heavy furs. The wind whips through their long hair. At the edge of the clearing, WILL (20), a young ranger dressed all in black, surveys the grim scene from the back of his gelding. He gathers his reins and guides his horse south.
EXT. FOREST - DUSK
Will rides hard between the towering pines, his horse’s hooves kicking up fresh-fallen snow.
He comes to a halt and dismounts beside two tethered horses. His comrades, GARED (50) and SER WAYMAR ROYCE (18), crouch beside a stream, filling their skins with cold water. They rise and look to the newcomer expectantly. Ser Waymar is gray-eyed and graceful, with an aristocrat’s air of command despite his youth. He wears a supple coat of gleaming black ringmail and a lush sable cloak. Will and Gared also wear the black of the Night’s Watch, but their clothes are far less regal, their leather and fur battered from hard usage. Gared wears a hood for warmth.
WILL We should start back. They’re all dead.
Gared offers Will his water skin and Will takes a drink.
SER WAYMAR
Any blood?
WILL Not that I saw.
SER WAYMAR How close did you get?
WILL Close enough to see they was dead.
SER WAYMAR
(skeptical)
Or sleeping?
GARED If Will says they’re dead, they’re dead. We should head back to the Wall.
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