This left Robin with the unenviable chore of making a decision. Even he felt its weight, and even the promise of a snow-bound adventure lost some of its sparkle when faced with a trio of souls waiting on his very whim. The pressure was far more intensive than he liked, and it through him into a sullen sulk. "I'm tired, Alayne," he whined -- picking at the trailing sleeves of her dress and smearing cranberry sauce on what would otherwise be a perfectly serviceable fabric.

She did not chide him for it. Instead, she touched her forehead to his and took in a deep breath. "Soon, it will be far too dark to travel down the mountain. Sooner than we could possibly pack. Save your deliberations for the morning, my lord." Then, to Colemon: "...We have at least that long, don't we?"

The Maester nodded.